


Rusted Iron and Burning Coals

by Septic_wolf



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, But there will be hints to it, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Tony Stark, I can't write that, I keep writing this way too late, I mean it, M/M, Matchmaker Natasha Romanov, Mob!Avengers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Steve, Slow Build, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark Friendship, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, There won't be sex, Tony Has Issues, hopefully
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-29 09:07:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11437659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Septic_wolf/pseuds/Septic_wolf
Summary: “The ones who dream big are often the first to die, Tony.”Tony pulled at his hair. His father’s words ringed in his ears. He’d tried to hide who he was, what he was capable of doing with his hands, his mouth, his brain. Tony thought that he could hide it and no one would end him for being the big dreamer that he was.Slowly, as if time were moving at a rate that allowed Tony some solace of relief, he fell to Steve’s side. The larger man’s body was covered in burned skin marks, tattered clothing, and ash. Tony thought it was fitting for Steve to be asleep, at least he wouldn’t be awake to hear Tony scream once the flames finally consumed him. Tony thought that Steve might get lucky. He’d inhale so much smoke that he would die from it before the flames took over him. It would be a better death than the one that Tony was going to have. The billionaire pushed away some of the hair on Steve’s face. “You were a good man Rogers… Wish you could have said the same for me… In the end, I’m glad that I at least got to get through some of this with you.” Tony’s hand fell from Steve’s face to his chest. “Till the end of the line, huh? Bet you’ll wish that you never told me that.”





	1. Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> So, I got inspiration from another persons Mob AU that they were doing with the Avengers, and I got hooked... For several days. I thought a lot about it and decided that I wanted to try one out myself. I'm well into writing into Chapter 2, nearly done. I hope that you guys like this, I think it's pretty good, but then again... I don't like to assume. 
> 
> So, a disclaimer.  
> I don't own the characters. I apologize if the characters seem a little off, but I didn't want them to be exactly like they are in the movies/comics. If you don't like that then the exit is to your left with the back button. 
> 
> Before I let you go on, just gonna mention... I don't cuss. I really hate cussing actually, but to make them mute to it I thought wasn't going to do them justice. SO I bleeped them... Sort of. Anyway, it's the only way that I'm allowing myself to keep their personalities in there. Live with it. 
> 
> That's all I have to say for now.

Tony latched onto Steve’s heavy form, dragging it a few feet before having to cough from the smoke. The warehouse was up in flames and starting to bring the building down on top of them should Tony keep them there any longer. “Steve, I swear to God that if you don’t wake up after this I will be royally pissed at you.” Tony took off his jacket then and took a few breaths beneath it before trying to grab hold of the bigger man once again.

            Gun shots were sounding from outside. Tony thought that he might be able to get them to a spot where there weren’t any gunmen, but that was starting to look like a fruitless endeavor the closer Tony got to an actual exit. “F#^*!” He growled through his teeth before looking around the warehouse more. There weren’t very many exits for him to choose from, and the longer they were there the closer Tony felt to having lung cancer at 35 in a few years. _If we make it that far._ Cursing again Tony tried to coax the other man awake. Slapping his face just light enough that it wouldn’t cause more damage. To think that Tony would have loved for that to be the case just a few months ago. Before Stane. Before Hammer. Before his company decided to try and freeze him out.

            There was crash behind them, and Tony found himself over Steve then, trying to block him from the debris. Some of the small embers were trying to eat their way through Tony’s nice dress shirt. He bit his bottom lip to keep from crying out. “Steve, come on!” Tony tried harder to wake the other man. He couldn’t drag him outside, it would be too obvious, they wouldn’t make it out of there alive. Natasha would bring him back to life just to kill him again should he let Steve die. “CAPTAIN!” There still wasn’t a response. _We’re going to die here._ Tony swore that he felt the reactor skip slightly, jolting some of the shrapnel closer to his heart. Tears pricked the edges of Tony’s eyes, but he wiped them away before they would even dare try to fall.

            “No. We aren’t dying here. This isn’t our legacy.” Tony gritted his teeth and pulled Steve’s arm over his shoulder once more before gearing towards the exit that he’d been making his way to. _Almost there. 13 steps. 12. 11. 10. 9._ Tony stumbled slightly and there was a pained groan from Steve as his leg brushed against some of the still burning crates. Tony dropped the man quickly to put out the flame that was rapidly licking up Steve’s calf. Tony would have griped at the man, yelled at him for his carelessness, but Tony felt the biting chill of knowing that Steve would have wanted to do the same thing if it were Tony in that situation. _We are more alike that I wanted to believe… He’s rubbed off on me._ The tears were back. Tony willed them away and picked up the soldier once more.

            They weren’t but 3 steps away when a beam crashed and blocked their exit. Effectively trapping them within the warehouse, ready to be burned alive and served with a side of ketchup once they were done and found by the police. Charred up men who were too young to really know a thing about how the world worked. “MotherF*#$@#!” Tony yelled, dropping Steve once more to try and kick at the beam. This wasn’t how he wanted to end.

            _“The ones who dream big are often the first to die, Tony.”_

            Tony pulled at his hair. His father’s words ringed in his ears. He’d tried to hide who he was, what he was capable of doing with his hands, his mouth, his brain. Tony thought that he could hide it and no one would end him for being the big dreamer that he was.

            Slowly, as if time were moving at a rate that allowed Tony some solace of relief, he fell to Steve’s side. The larger man’s body was covered in burned skin marks, tattered clothing, and ash. Tony thought it was fitting for Steve to be asleep, at least he wouldn’t be awake to hear Tony scream once the flames finally consumed him. Tony thought that Steve might get lucky. He’d inhale so much smoke that he would die from it before the flames took over him. It would be a better death than the one that Tony was going to have. The billionaire pushed away some of the hair on Steve’s face. “You were a good man Rogers… Wish you could have said the same for me… In the end, I’m glad that I at least got to get through some of this with you.” Tony’s hand fell from Steve’s face to his chest. “Till the end of the line, huh? Bet you’ll wish that you never told me that.”

 

 

[9 Months ago]

 

            Manhattan, New York. It was large, held tall buildings, and it was sure to capture anyone that walked its streets. People milled about without much care, talking on cell phones or just walking down the road to a cab or work. People were what Manhattan was meant to store. People lived when they were there. They didn’t think about anything else other than living. It’s what Tony admired about Manhattan, why he didn’t set up shop anywhere else. The livelihood of Manhattan has that spark that fueled the Stark into believing that he could conquer anything that he thought he could.

            “I’m telling you, Tony, the guys will love having you there to show them the next missile launch. They don’t want the pencil pushers they want the man who is behind the mask.” Tony turned away from his office window to look at his right hand. Obie was overweight, white, bald with a salt and pepper beard, yet here Tony was. “Show yourself to them, reap the benefits, and you’ll make even more than you do now. The only reason that Stark Industries is where it is right now is because we let them think that the whole weapons division comes up with these specs. Tony, you could blow their minds. They’ll be begging-”

            “I know Obie, you tried to pitch this same load of garbage at me last time.” Tony faced Obadiah fully, showing his fierce stance to the older man. “I’m not going over to Afghanistan, that’s final. Hogan got word of another gang rolling in outside of Manhattan. I’m not going to risk all that I’ve worked for here just to maybe raise some worthless stock prices.” The younger took a seat at his desk, staring at Obadiah openly before throwing a hand through the air, dismissing him. “Go. If this is all you wanted to talk with me about have Jarvis record it and I’ll play it on a loop whenever I want to be put in a pissed mood.” With that Tony turned away from Obadiah, nearly breathing out a sigh of relief when he heard the door shut behind the male.

            Tony ran his right hand through his mop of black hair. What he wouldn’t give to have Rhodey back stateside. He didn’t like the darker male being so far away from him, to offer advice when Tony needed it, to be the one to tell him what needed to be done before he got in over his head. There was always satellite calling, or video messaging. It wasn’t as if Tony couldn’t afford the expense. But Tony wanted the other there with him. Physically. He wanted his best friend next to him, and working by his side. But Rhodes took a rain check on him, told him to wait on asking him to take Obie’s place in the family.

            But Tony was selfish, he didn’t want to wait the few more years that Rhodes would be touring across the sea. He would call the air force if it meant he knew that Rhodey wouldn’t be pissed off with him in the end. Tony sighed again before getting to his feet.

            He took the elevator down to the lab floor, punching in a code before allowing the elevator to move. Tony had JARVIS hooked up to the tower already, but there was something about the manual means of getting to his workspace that made Tony feel as if he were in his favorite spy movie. It was real James Bond type that made Tony keep the number punching code.

            When the doors opened to reveal his lab, Tony started to strip out of his more designer clothes into the tank top and stained jeans that were thrown over the couch. They were there from when Tony was called up to his meeting with Obie. Tony smirked at the what he might have looked like, the image of him as he rode naked in his elevator up to the penthouse where he’d had most of his nicer clothes stored. The discarding of his clothes made getting into the shower faster, so he’d justified his nakedness to make up for lost time. Though Tony was sure that JARVIS had already deleted the footage of Tony anyways as to keep him out of trouble.

            Taking a seat in front of his holograms Tony flipped through of few of his specs before stopping on a few. He enlarged them, put them aside then pulled open more documents. Tony worked like this for a few minutes, soon enough getting up for the coffee machine that he’d built in the corner of the lab. He’d thank his genius brain for the idea and wondered for only a second why he’d thought not putting a coffee machine in the lab in the first place was a good idea. Taking a sip from the sweet nectar Tony patted the top of DUM-E’s claw as the bot slowly woke. The AI bot acknowledged his creator’s presence for only a second before shooting across the room and resuming his ministrations of how to operate the fire extinguisher. Tony shook his head at what he was sure was possessed by a child soul before returning to his desk.

            JARVIS had already pulled up some of his emails that needed to be looked at, even pulled up some information of some of the family that Tony hadn’t seen in a while. All of the tabs that Tony kept open were starting to rise at an alarming rate until he heard the lab doors open to reveal Pepper. Tony waved in her direction but kept his eyes on the screens. Pepper walked over to her boss with determined steps and flicked her fingers over her stark pad every once in a while. Tony wasn’t entirely sure that some of what she was doing weren't just for show. She more than likely had in mind what she was going to say to him ready before she’d even entered the elevator.

            “Tony, I’m telling you now as your only reminder that you have two more meetings to get to today. You’ll need the blue suit for your meeting at 2 and your white jacket for the second meeting at 4. Each of these men holds… interest for what you’re talking about building and you need their approval before you can start the testing phase. Don’t insult them, don’t even make small talk. If you botch this you’re looking at another contract down the drain and another meeting with Obadiah that will go on longer than the half-hour meetings that you’ve been having with him lately.” Tony grimaced at the thought of those meetings going on longer than he liked.

            “Why can’t Obie go and talk with these guys? I thought he was supposed to take care of these types of things?” Pepper looked up at Tony then, her eyes sharp, reminding Tony of the reason that he picked her up in the first place. Those eyes and that sharp wit that could rival Tony’s own if he were to dare go up against the woman. She was terrifying in her own sort of way.

            “Obadiah has meetings overseas, in your Hong Kong branch if I remember this right.” She glanced at the tablet a moment before making a noise, “Tck, looks like I was right. So that leaves you to talk with them. Don’t disappoint me, Tony. I expect you to be on time.” Pepper put the tablet down at her side and smiled at Tony for a moment. “I was also told by Bruce that he plans to travel back with Obadiah. He’ll be here within a week and he sends word that he looks forward to seeing you again.”

            Tony felt the grin come over his face before he rose to his feet once more and stretched. “Big Green coming back so soon? I would have thought he’d research longer. Suppose he missed us too much, huh?” There was a fond look on Pepper’s face once Tony turned away, flicking away some of the files that held more of the information of the other family members.

            “I think Bruce is just homesick. I know that he wasn’t all that happy to be going on this research trip in the first place. He’d wanted to be here when the other gang showed up.” Tony knew that Pepper was right. Bruce got really antsy when Tony had told him that another gang was headed for Manhattan. He’d expressed to Tony several times that he wasn’t comfortable leaving Tony and the family behind while he was likely safer in the middle east. _To think that Bruce would say that it’s safer over there than here._ Tony nearly laughed loudly at the thought.

            Tony pulled over more of his holograms before he heard Hogan’s steps outside the lab as well. “Is this disturb Tony by coming to his lab day? I feel like this is what today is turning into.” Tony turned sharply to the security man who didn’t so much as wince as Tony’s stare found him.

            “Sorry sir, but I just thought you’d like to know that the gang you were talking about… They crossed over into Manhattan. Loki’s keeping an eye on them, but he seemed nervous when he saw who they were.” Tony’s brow creased at that. It was difficult to get the foreign man nervous, Tony knew first hand. It took a lot to get Loki to even agree to join them, much less allow Tony to be the one in charge of what he was doing. For a gang to make Loki nervous was rattling enough.

            Tony focused back in again, “Send out Vision, tell him to keep an eye on Loki along with the group. It might help calm Loki down with one of our best there with him.” Hogan nodded before leaving the room to go back upstairs. Tony waited a few seconds before glancing at Pepper. The woman was busy looking and flicking around on her tablet but he could tell that the news was shocking to her too. “Keep Obadiah up to date with what we just learned. I’ll go up in a bit to get ready for those meetings.” He dismissed Pepper quickly after that, sitting at his workstation.

 

 

 

            Steve didn’t like the noise of Manhattan. It bustled around too much, but the people didn’t give him or his crew a second look as they maneuvered through the crowds. Steve and his crew had only just arrived in the city a few hours ago. They were on their way to their next hide out until they could return to Brooklyn. Rogers had sent ahead Natasha to make sure that their place was secure and to gather up any information before they set sights on doing anything in the region.

            Bucky stood next to Steve, only towering slightly over Steve as they scanned the area. Rogers took note of each of his members as he looked through the people for Natasha. Barton was looking at a men clothing store window from where Steve was at, but he was sure the marksmen was using the reflection in the window to spot anyone sneaking around. Thor was more obvious about it, but the muscles in his arms were threat enough that people seemed to give the foreign man a wider birth should he decide to strike at anyone suddenly. Rumlow was subtle, drinking coffee and glancing around now and again to get his barring’s. The twins were hung back, laughing with one another over at some ice cream stand. As for Sam, Steve was sure that man was someone in the region keeping tabs on all of them.

            “We’ll reach the safe house in 10 minutes if we go by foot. Want me to signal we’re moving on?” Steve nodded and started walking on leaving Bucky to signal to the others while Steve scouted ahead. There was shift about them all. Everything seemed to seamlessly work together as they all walked forward.

            Steve felt powerful with the air that they seemed to generate. It was as if they were one body, all sharing one heart that pounded as a unit. Before long they stood outside of a warehouse on the outskirts of Manhattan. “Barton check the perimeter while we move inside.” Clint nodded to his boss and disappeared into the shadows. Steve and the others went off into the building, setting down bags and equipment where they would need to be.

            Everyone around Steve was bustling around quickly. Checking out rooms and setting up all their computers as fast as they could. Bucky walked up next to Steve who was setting out maps and other files that he’d grabbed from their old base. “You’re sure that Hydra won’t find us here? I know that Schmidt is crazy and all that, but you know how smart the man is behind all of that.”

            Steve opened another bag before sighing. “Hydra won’t find us here, Buck. I made sure of it. As for Schmidt, I don’t know how that man survived. I faced him at the docks, he was going to shoot Peggy and next thing I know I shot the son of a gun right in the chest. I saw him fall into the harbor. He shouldn’t be alive.”

            “Could have missed. Might have been able to drag himself to shore. Either way, someone put out a request for your head on a platter. You can’t be seen in Brooklyn, none of us can, until either we find Schmidt and end it this once and for all, or we all die in blazing glory.” Steve hoped it didn’t have to come to that while they were hiding out in Manhattan.

            Closing up and storing away the bags Steve wandered away from the small table to where he’d seen a figure slip in. “Romanov, what did you hear?” From the shadows, a skinny, red-headed woman emerged. Her eyes scanned over Steve before she started talking.

            “The city is held close, not many people get in or out without someone knowing. Few gangs around here, all of them answer to a mob. Run by a guy called, ‘Merchant of Death’. He runs his operation out of Stark Industries after making a deal with their CEO. Regardless to say he’s got the firepower to keep everyone compliant on the streets.” Everyone was listening in by this point, some of the members tensing up at the news. “He runs a tight ship. Learned from a ‘friend’ that the Merchant doesn’t let other large groups in all that often, and most likely heard about our arrival days before we got here. He’ll probably have men tailing us for a while until we show that we aren’t here to be a threat.”

            Steve took a look around. Thor, blonde like him and large wasn’t what Steve would consider non-threatening. Bucky was just a hair taller than Steve himself but had a similar build. Threat. Natasha didn’t look large or threatening, but that was something that Steve was sure no one would take lightly. Threat. Sam didn’t look threatening, but Rumlow looked military enough to make up for it between the two of them. Then there was Clint and the twins. Barton had an RBF like none other and the twins looked harmless unless you ticked them off. Steve didn’t like their chances. As Steve was about to express his thoughts he turned to the back where Barton was walking in, carrying somethi-one behind him. “Barton, report.”

            “Found this kid rummaging around with the electrical around back.” Clint shoved the kid forward into the light, crossing his arms like he was a part of some mafia… Steve shook his head. Instead, he brought his attention to the kid in front of him. He was skinny, lanky in some ways. He wasn’t done growing. His eyes flew up to reach Steve’s and didn’t leave. _Defiant._ The kid’s eyes were green.

            “What’s your name son?” Steve asked, though noting how everyone seemed to press in when he asked. They didn’t take strangers lightly, and especially not right now.

            The kid didn’t even look at the others. “Peter.” This left Steve to raise his brow. _Peter..?_ But the boy was done talking, his eyes finally left Steve’s to take in everyone else around him. The kid couldn’t have been more than 15 at the most. It didn’t sit well with Steve that the kid was so young and obviously deprived of the nourishment that was required for a kid his age.

            Steve lowered himself to the ground level, resting his elbows on his knees while gaining the kids attention back towards him. “Okay, Peter. Where is your family? What were you doing to the electricity?”

            Peter seemed to be embarrassed about the fact as his ears started to turn red. His eyes fell from Steve’s instantly. “Don’t have a family. Not anymore.” Those green orbs found blue once more when he spoke again, “I was cleaning up what I’d already done. I just fried one of the circuit board at a place I was staying in. The place is probably burning up as we speak.” Steve felt part of his mouth fall open at the kid’s confession. “No need to worry though sir. I’ll attend confession on Sunday.”

            “Jez, you’re a pretty intense little dude.” Clint was leaning against his bow staring at Peter. “Burn the place to Hell then thinking that some confessional is going to just keep it all under wraps? What sort of fantasy are you living in?”

            Steve was slightly shocked at how fast Peter turned to look at Barton. “Everyone in Queens knows that confession in Manhattan runs a different way. The Merchant wouldn’t have such a clean conscious if he was arrested for telling his priest all the gory details. It’s the only reason I’m here besides the hellhole I just got myself out from. I’d say I did Manhattan a favor.” Peter was tense. Too tense. Steve could tell that it was hurting the kid more than it seemed. He hadn’t wanted to do what he’d just done; his voice was strained and crisp as if he were recovering from tears. Joy or sorrow, Steve wasn’t sure. But Steve could tell that Peter wasn’t used to this type of deal, he didn’t just kill people because he wanted to do it. He did it because he saw it as his only option.

            Rising back to his feet Steve opened his mouth to speak, but the gun cocking behind him stopped them all. Turning around slowly Steve took in the stance of Rumlow, gun trained on the kid on the ground. “I’m sure Hell wouldn’t mind taking you in then?” Barnes stepped in front of the barrel, blocking the man’s shot.

            “Cool it, Rumlow. The kid isn’t a threat to us or the family. Put your safety back on.” But the ex-militant didn’t so much and falter.

            “He just put an orphanage up in flames for the heck of it. The last person who had done that so willingly was Schmidt, and I think I’d rather not have another man like that running around with us.” He cocked his gun more assuredly, pressing the barrel up against Bucky’s sternum to get the man to move so that he’d have his shot once more.

            That was when Steve finally intervened. “Drop it, Brock, or I promise I will drop you.” Rumlow glanced to his left, Natasha stood with her pistol at the ready right next to his temple. A small trickle of sweat fell down the man face before he dropped the gun and switched back on the safety.

            Peter was shaking as the entire ordeal was going down, but it wasn’t so obvious unless you were looking for it. “You don’t have to worry Peter, I won’t let anything happen to you.” Steve smiled and offered a hand to the kid. Peter took it, tentatively and rose so that he could see everyone in the room once more. “Romanov will see to it that you are looked after. I have other business to take care of.” With that Steve let Natasha step and guide Peter away from the scene.

            When they were out of listening distance Steve rounded back on Rumlow with a hard glare. “Let’s go out and have a chat, Brock.” Steve felt the oddest sense of satisfaction when he saw Rumlow gulp hard.


	2. From my youth... To my old age

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony handles a few issues that seem to pop up in Manhattan. Meanwhile, Steve goes off to visit with an old friend... Or is he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it isn't Saturday, but I was already on chapter 4 when I decided that I would give you guys a new chapter.

           The docks weren’t Tony’s favorite. Trades happened there, along with other unmentionable activities, but he was called there early that morning before he could drink his coffee. Rough hands rubbed over his eyes and a grimace was the first thing that formed on his face when met with his docks manager. “Found him like this last night. Bullet, in and out, and his eyes wide open.” The docks manager pointed a few feet away from where a man and some of Tony’s men were sitting. They seemed to be overlooking the docks. As if they were friends catching up before work. Tony ignored them.

            “Why did they shoot?”

            “Get to you, sir. Thought that you’d want to hear what it is they gots to say.” The dock manager looked bored, used to this type of behavior. “Told him you’d be bloody pissed off, but he wouldn’t hear it. Bloke said that he’d even start writing it down if we cut out his tongue. He’s a rather big nuisance really.” Tony walked over to the body, glancing it over. He took in the man’s work shirt, the flannel, the blue jeans, heavy boots. The bullet wound had long since stopped bleeding, and the blood was clotted up creating a lump on the corpse's forehead.

            _Rhodey would know what to say in a time like this. D@ &$ Obadiah for going off to Hong Kong while all this S&$* is happening. _The CEO stood back up, glancing back over to the man that was still with his men.

            The man was stocky, not too terribly tall, even Tony would tower over him. His clothing was dark, obviously so that he wouldn’t stand out in the night. Black leather jacket, dark jeans, black shirt. Tony had been told he was wearing a ski mask until he ripped it off to talk with the dock manager. Tony felt his teeth start to grind together. This man didn’t know what he’d been thinking when he decided to rile up Tony.

            “What was his speech?” Tony suddenly asked, turning back to his manager with a smirk that didn’t quite reach through to his eyes.

            “Weakness. You aren’t the man that everyone says that you are. Course he wouldn’t really know that, would he? Bloke probably came from over the river, those Brooklyn and Queens folk don’t know how things are run in these parts.” Tony nodded.

            “No, they sure don’t.”

            Tony wandered then over to where the men were standing and patted both of his men on the back. They stopped whatever chatter it was that they had going and walked away. But not before nodding to Tony as they passed. When it was just Tony and the man… Tony found that he was thankful for sending his men away. “So, the Merchant does have a face.” The man had only had to ponder for a minute before recognizing who Tony was. “I didn’t expect this, though it isn’t too far-fetched. Your legal teams did a good job of keeping your public self away from the Merchant.”

            “They are the best at what they do, I make sure of it,” Tony replied, taking up a place at the man’s side, looking over the railing to the sea below… The rocks. “I can’t seem to recall. Who allowed you to shoot one of my men… In my territory? I thought I made it clear when I claimed Manhattan that all other gang activity was prohibited. I run this show, no one else.”

            The man smirked, turning to face Tony so that he could gesture with an arm, “You’ve allowed other gangs into your territory… Another mob only recently. Word is that you haven’t even talked with them yet, set the ground rules.” The man leaned in further, “you are losing your touch, and your name apparently doesn’t spread the fear that you seem to think that it contains. Many are starting to doubt the weight of the name… Merchant of Death? Or Merchant of Aging? Men on the streets are starting to see your men and are deciding to take a stand against your regime. They don’t believe in the threats that you promise.” Tony kept his eyes forward, fingers curling around the bar though not tightly. “Even now you do not seem to care that you are falling. Had you been expecting this outcome for a while? If so, why not place the crown on someone else, someone who can take over for you? Surely you would have a son or daughter for that matter who could hold your title.” The man smirked wider. “Think about it, Merchant. You are getting too soft, and the press will get too close. The position that you’ve presented yourself in has made you weak to competition. It has made YOU weak.”

            Tony took that time to look at the man then. Take him in further. The man was young, mid 20’s. His hair was cut short, military, his body, however, screamed gamer and wannabe. The eyes caught Tony for only a second but it was enough of a glimpse for him to see the fire of rebellion, the burning hatred that he had for being held on a leash. His eyes reminded Tony of a dog who’d been beaten down too many times and was finally giving into his wishes to fight back.

            Tony doesn’t like dogs. 

            “I wouldn’t call me weak, mutt,” From his waistband, underneath his coat, Tony pulled out a small handgun. He pulled the trigger quickly and didn’t so much as blink when the man recoiled and fell to the ground. “Stark men are made of _Iron.”_ Tony pulled out a handkerchief and rubbed away the bloody specks from his face, walking over the body as he made his way back to his car.

 

 

 

            Steve Rogers believed that he knew New York rather well. He’d grown up there most of his life and had only left it when he’d served overseas for the few years of the army lifestyle that he could take. If he was honest it was the letter from Peggy that brought him home. Bucky by that time had already lost his arm in battle and was recovering back in the states. Phillips, his commanding officer, sent him back without a word. Honorable discharge, family reasons. Steve had been relieved and upset with the idea that he was going home with little less than a few scratches and several years of PTSD. Though he would never forget his battle with Schmidt.

            There were a few things that Steve didn’t quite understand when he first got back. New forms of slang, or the different groups that had popped up while he was away. The family had been fine while he’d gone, but he could tell that they were shaken. The leader of their family was ill, gravely ill. In the letter that Peggy wrote he’d been told that he was asked to take up the leadership position for them, give them a man who would do what he must to protect them. When Peggy died a few years after Steve was officially the leader of their group, Steve vowed to never trust other gangs again with jobs.

            Now Steve wasn’t quite sure where he stood. His base back in Brooklyn had been compromised by the police, and there was no doubt that they were searching all of Brooklyn for him. The Captain was well known but didn’t hold a face, most of the members didn’t. Bucky, The Winter Soldier, was practically a ghost. Natasha, The Black Widow, a tale to keep children in bed during the night. Clint, Hawkeye, a legend that ran deep in the underbelly of New York for being known as the man that didn’t miss.

            “You look pensive, Captain.” Steve glanced back to the doorway, the morning sun keeping Bucky in the shadows momentarily until he walked outside. “Mind telling me what’s on your brain punk?” That threw a grin onto Steve’s face immediately. He patted the spot of grass next to him, and let Bucky throw an arm over his shoulder as a means to somehow comfort him but not really.

            They sat there for a few moments, taking in the glow of the morning. How the sun barely peaked out over the skyscrapers and other business buildings that were a part of Manhattan. “This city is toxic,” Steve stated rather bluntly. Pulling his knees up to his chest, curling his arms around his knees. “I can tell that there is an air about this place that reeks of drug usage and arms dealings. I know that Brooklyn has a lot of that too, but this place breaths it in without a second thought. It’s like that friend who gets you started on Cigarettes and booze and doesn’t feel an inch of remorse for it.”

            Bucky shrugged. “You said something similar to that about Queens. Care to explain what makes this place worse?”

            There was a pause, a break that Steve didn’t know how to fill. Manhattan wasn’t what he knew. Back when he was a kid, and his ma would bring him over to visit, he’d look at Manhattan from his car window and marvel at what he saw. The tall buildings, the bustling amount of people, and all the money that was involved in making to advance. He and his Ma would spend hours in only a portion of the city. They would go to the park and watch the birds or play on the swing sets. That was a Manhattan that Steve remembered. A place that had once felt safe but now felt like the beginnings of a battleground. “It’s as if the moment we walked in there was automatic tension from everyone. It was as if the town was warning people that we were there. I saw the signs.” Steve closed his eyes, the vague memory of a woman pausing in her conversation on the phone as he passed. A man closing his store early and watching them walk by with a hard stare. Another, a boy, seemingly throwing rocks up in the air, sling shot next to him. “People here… They all know something is coming.”

            “That or they are just normal, and you are paranoid.” Steve shoved at Bucky’s hand before getting up.

            “I’m serious.”

            “So am I. Steve, ever since we left Brooklyn you’ve been on edge. I know that you haven’t been to this place since your Ma and even your tour ended, but that doesn’t mean that you need to panic over nothing. We will be safe hiding out here for a few months, but until then keep your pants loose and just chill. Nat will let us know if anyone is gonna come after us, and if we are jumped we’ll raise Hell and send them back with their tails between their legs.” Bucky rose then, gesturing with his arm at the skyline once more. “Those people, who you saw, they’re just people. Living the grind. Just like we are.”

            Steve shook his head. “We don’t lead normal lives, Buck. People threaten to shoot each other all the time… Not many actually go through with it with little remorse.” There was a silence that followed them at that point. Bucky seemed to look away, back towards the hideout. When his right hand didn’t say anything further Steve felt the need to sigh. “So… The mob that runs this place. Is it still the Italian’s?”

            “Probably a mix like us by now, but yeah. Their head is still Italian from what Nat says.” Anything that Natasha found was probably reliable if Steve was going to be honest. The woman was too terrifying to lie to. “You knew their head before the war, right? I thought you’d mentioned him once or twice.”

            Steve nodded again. “Howard. Nice guy if you got around the fact that when I first met him I was about ten, and he’d offered me a scotch while pointing a gun at a still warm dead body.” Meeting Howard when he did was a complete accident. The leader of their family was going over to Manhattan to discuss with Howard about a trading deal. He’d brought Steve along to pacify Howard, hoping that he wouldn’t get too violent. That went out the door quickly, but regardless it seemed to work. Howard liked Steve, in a son sort of way that seemed odd.

            “Intense dude.”

            “You wouldn’t know it if you saw him on a regular day. He hides it well, the way that death clung to him as if he were the grim reaper himself. Howard didn’t put up with anything unless it came out in his favor.” Steve turned back to the skyline, the image of where Stark Industries New York branch still there, reflecting off the sun’s rays. Out of all the buildings in Manhattan… It seemed that Stark’s had changed the most.

            Bucky shifted his stance and started walking back. “Let’s hope that he still favors you then. I wouldn’t want to put a bullet through the head of a man who rules the Manhattan underground.”

 

 

 

            “Whatever you are about to say, shut it.” Tony brought his hands away from his face, glowering at the intern that had opened his door. She was cute, small, not Tony’s type at all. _That rhymed._ A smirk played over his face as he stood up. “Sorry, thought you were someone else. What can I do for you, sweetheart?” A blush covered the girls face as she stammered out about some meeting that he was undoubtedly late for. Tony didn’t really feel the need to attend any meetings today, so he planned very quickly to turn the girl away until she said…

            “A Mr. Captain Rogers is here to see you. He booked an appointment this morning from his assistant and asked that you speak with him when you had the chance. He just walked in about a half hour ago and is still waiting in the lobby.” Tony blinked, wondering where he’d heard the name Rogers before. It wasn’t possible that he’d forget someone with a Captain ranking… Would he? Tony wasn’t entirely sure.

            Walking back to his desk Tony glanced back at the girl. “Send him up. I have some time now before I leave.” She nodded, not at all questioning his dismissal of the other meetings. The girl promptly left the room with a click of heels and a flip of hair. Tony was sure that she was no older than 19. When did he start hiring his staff that young?

            He shook his head. That wasn’t something that he needed to look into. He was young when he graduated from MIT. He was young when his father was taken from him. He was young when he’d killed his first man with his father’s handgun. There wasn’t anything wrong with being young. The door behind him opened, and Tony wondered when he’d turned towards the windows at all.

            “Mr. Stark. I know that it’s been a while, but I was hoping that I could talk with you about my family and I staying here. I know that when we last met our families didn’t end on very friendly terms, but I still had that card you’d given me before we’d left. I thought I’d give it a shot.” Tony’s brow creased. The man behind him didn’t sound young, but he wasn’t old either. This man knew his father…

            Tony turned his chair around to face this man and saw the shock enter his face. The CEO quickly looked him over before sporting a grin that would seemingly split his face in half. “Not who you were expecting?”

            Just speaking to the guy seemed to jolt him out of his daze. “Can’t say that I was. I was looking for Mr. Stark. I don’t suppose that you know-”

            “If you are looking for Howard you’ll find him buried next to his wife in the Graveyard on our private property. Though where that is I’d have to kill you myself once you were finished there. Only a few privileged get to go there.” Tony stood up then and wandered over.

            The man stood straighter if that was possible when Tony mentioned Howard. Tony never knew that his father had befriended someone just a few years older than him. “My condolences. I didn’t mean to bring up old scars intentionally. But if Howard is dead, who are you?”

            This made Tony’s smile almost genuine. “Living under a rock? Or just not a fan of the New York Times? I’m Anthony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries, a registered genius, billionaire, philanthropist, and a good lay in bed if you want to give it a try.” Tony winked at him, nearly chuckled then the telling signs of blush started to come over his face. “But if that’s too long for you, Tony will suffice,” Tony cracked another smile, “though if you don’t want to tell me your name I’d gladly call you master this evening.”

            Steve’s eyes seemed to narrow at the statement. “That’s hardly appropriate, Mr. Stark.”

            “Say what you will, anyone that sees you and doesn’t make some sort of move to try and bed you would be an insult. To you and all of America.” Tony shrugged before sitting down, propping his feet up on his desk without much of a care.

            The man seemed to sigh at Tony’s antics. “Captain Rogers.”

            “That’s what one of my secretaries told me, but I want your first name.”

            That seemed to halt the Captain where he was standing. Tony felt the power shift as if it were tangible. Roger’s feet shifted, as did his eyes to a narrowed stare. _Most likely not kidding about that Captain status._ A grin seemed to become permanent on Tony’s face as the man went into a more fighter’s ready stance. “Grant. Grant Rogers.”

            The CEO clapped his hands together, “Great! Well, I’m glad that we could come to that understanding. I would have hated to call security over something as trivial as a name.” The tension was still there but was dissipating the longer that Tony just smiled. When Grant relaxed Tony rose to his feet once more. “What brought you into my office today? I may not be my father, but any old partners he had in the past I’m willing to listen to if their pitch is good.”

            Roger’s wandered to where the photographs were set up, seeming to create distance between them. Tony thought he was easing his tension. _So, high strung for such a young Captain._ Something quick sparkled in Tony’s eye. He was rather young to be a Captain already… “I was hoping to discuss an old business deal that my father.” Roger’s hesitated slightly before the word father. It was becoming president to Tony that most of what Roger’s was likely spewing to him was utter bull crap. Regardless Tony didn’t speak up quite yet. “There was a property that he offered to him a while back, and I was wondering if that offer still stood somewhere in the books. I’d be willing to bargain for it if it’s all the same.”

            The mental records that Tony kept of his father’s old deals sprang through his head. Opening and shutting file cabinets that had they been real would have collected spider webs in due time. “I’m assuming that your father’s name was Roger’s as well?”

            “No… My father stepped out from my family. I moved in with the Barnes when I was young. It's likely under that name.” _Barnes. Barnes…_ Tony didn’t recall any company documents under that name. Tony made a small noise before shaking his head.

            “I’m afraid that I don’t remember. I’ll have the records checked, but if there is a way that I can contact you if I find them.” Tony trailed off when Roger’s held out a card. Taking it Tony noted how, bland, boring it looked.

 

            _Captain G. Rogers_

_718-623-5473_

            Only two lines of text. Tony flipped it over. On the back was the emblem of a shield with a white star in the middle. _A true patriot._ Tony glanced back up at Roger’s with his forced smile. “Well, I suppose if that is all that you need I’ll speak with you later.” He motioned for the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos! 
> 
> The next update will be this Saturday.


	3. The Man I thought I knew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's upset. Peter's a part of the family. Tony is up early again... Why did the Merchant show up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I nearly didn't get this uploaded. It was finished, just didn't have much time to this afternoon and my computer was being dumb.

“So, the meeting went that bad huh?” Steve threw his fist again at the sand bag, hearing the telling signs that it was liable to burst at a moment’s notice. Steve looked back at his right hand who seemed to have a Cheshire cat grin on his face.

Steve just rolled his eyes. “What gave it away?”

“Third bag today. I was wondering why Sam was asking where the duct tape was at. Howard not as friendly as you remember?”

“Something like that.” Bucky wandered further into their makeshift gym. Taking hold of the other side of the bag, grunting slightly from Steve’s rough punches. “His son has taken over the family business, and I’m not quite sure if that means he’s taken over… the other business as well. That Merchant of Death might be who’s taken over the Italian mob. I couldn’t tell with this guy.”

Barnes looked around the bag, letting it swing when Steve took a break for water. “Does this son have a name?”

“Tony Flippin Stark.” Steve twirled a finger in the air, a growl in frustration following. “Nearly called security because I panicked and wouldn’t tell him my name. If we ever meet this guy know that I went with my shield emblem card.” Bucky chuckled at the mention of it.

“Grant Rogers? Really? I hope you still know where that phone is. It could still be at the base.” Steve shook his head, pulling a cell from his workout bag as proof. “Well aren’t you the man with the plan?”

“Your dad called me that all the time.” They smiled at the memory. “Wish he was still here, you know? He would be able to handle Stark better than I would. I don’t handle… His type very well.” Bucky nodded in agreement. They could recall the bad business deal that they tried working out with Stone. That had resulted in Clint getting suctioned onto by an octopus, Nat grumbling around the base with three pieces of gum in her hair, and Bucky making meals for a few days because Steve was out cold for three days.

Bucky’s hand clasped on Steve’s shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up over this. Dad put you in charge for a reason. You and I both know that I wouldn’t have been all that much better.” It was true. Bucky didn’t have the leadership skill that Steve did when it came to the family. In the army, Bucky had been a snipper. He’d taken out enemies on his own, alone. He had a team, but that didn’t mean that he worked side by side with a lot of them. He stayed still. It was only because that he was at Steve’s side that had resulted in Bucky losing his left arm, brought him home for his father to try and patch him together. It was in the letter from Peggy that Steve learned that Bucky’s dad had named him the next leader of their family.

“I think given the chance you would have tried your hardest.”

A sad smile graced Bucky’s face as he looked at where his arm used to be. “My hardest costs me.” With that said, Barnes walked away from Steve to head towards the door. “Natasha and Clint want to update you on some information. Also, Nat wants to know what your plan is with Peter. The kid has been following her, and Sam around recently. Asking questions that they aren’t sure if they can answer quite yet.”

Steve packed up his bag, throwing it over his shoulder quickly before following after Bucky. “I’ll talk with him. I sort of wouldn’t mind taking him in. He looks like a kid who might want a family for a change.”   

 

 

 

 

The point of waking up in the awful hours of the morning was so that Tony had an excuse to drink several cups of coffee before going to the office. But he had not had the chance to drink one drop of that precious liquid. Pepper was insistent that Tony attend meetings while she searched the archives for a Mr. Barnes. “If you want me to do this Tony you are going to have to do something in it for me. That’s why it’s called a deal.”

“I thought it was because I’m your boss and since I sign your paycheck that you did what I asked.” Pepper gave him a look. Tony didn’t question her much further.

“You wouldn’t last a week without me.” Tony snapped his head towards her. She was confident, fingers still flying over her device with a small smile forming on her face.

“I beg to differ.”

“What’s your social security number?” The man opened his mouth, closed it, opened it. Pepper left without another word. So, Tony went to the meetings. He would emphasize MEETINGS. More than one. Tony wanted to gouge out his eyeballs than hear another word about stock prices or mispronunciation of ‘supposedly’.

Some gray haired, gray eyed, round bellied man was speaking at the moment, and Tony’s fingers were twitching for the inside of his coat. _Just a few more inches and…_ “I’m sorry to interrupt but I’m going to have to take Tony away early.” _Blessings from above! She deserves everything, a statue, monument, I’d build a city for her._ Tony shot up out of his seat, nearly forgetting his brief case as he walked out of the room.

“I owe you.” He stated the moment that he left the room, pulling her into a hug. To say that his hug was rejected wasn’t going through Tony’s mind when a paper file was shoved in his chest. “What’s this?” Tony held up the folder. Scribbled at the top was a name. _Barnes._ No other name listed. Just his last name. “Pep… Care to elaborate.”

She grabbed his arm quickly. “Not here.” She murmured before taking them to his office, shutting the door and telling JARVIS to keep everyone else out.

“Pepper, just tell me wh-”

“I found that file in your father’s mob files… The ones that he kept underneath the file room. I thought I would be wrong, but I searched the whole floor. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to go looking, and low and behold I find Barnes as the second name in all of those files.” Her hard stare wasn’t hard to miss. Tony felt his own muscles tense at what this meant.

Opening up the file Tony glanced over what he was seeing. A rough man’s face greeted him on the first page. Height. Weight. Even a preferred killing method was mentioned in small letters. The title “dangerous” didn’t cross Tony’s mind till he read further on about some of the heists that the guy had run. Most of them were stationed out of Brooklyn. He recognized some of the addresses that were sometimes plastered over the newspapers. Read further he finally saw what he had been asked to look for. A hideout. He knew the building. Where it was located, and what was even stocked there. 

_Irish Mob._

Tony’s thought process finally caught up with him. “Son of a b&$^@.” He snapped the file shut with anger, curling it in his fist before releasing. “He walked in without my knowledge of who he was.” Pepper seemed to shift uncomfortably from side to side, waiting. On soft feet, Tony walked around his desk to pull up his private server. There he typed in all the search codes that would take him to the file. The Irish Mob file.

For the better part of several years, Tony had kept tabs with them. What they stole, traded, borrowed. It was astonishing what they were able to get done in a day without batting an eyelash. He’d been impressed with them until bitterness set in and he’d given the observation of them to Hogan. He should have guessed that it was them when it was Happy to come and give the news of the gang’s movement. Except Happy had ignored telling him the small detail that they weren’t a gang… “A FLIPPIN MOB!” Tony’s fist suddenly came down on the top of the desk, rattling some of the picture frames that were there.

Pepper didn’t seem at all phased by the outburst. “What are you going to do? He’s seen your face. You can’t go after him.”

“The h$%^ I can’t!” Tony barked, standing abruptly. “Tell Hogan to get the car ready, I’ll be needed a ride home then I have a few things to handle before I go after I friend, Grant Roger’s.”

 

 

 

 

Peter didn’t talk much when Steve had sat down across from him. His head chin was resting on his knees, seemingly lost in thought. Steve looked over at the boy. Peter, from what Steve could tell, was intelligent. He seemed to factor in everything all at the same time and strived to be the smartest in the room. Steve only knew this as Peter seemed to ask all the right questions to get the knowledge that he was seeking. “Want to talk about where you’re originally from?” Steve long ago thought that he was good with kids. They seemed to like him well enough, and he didn’t mind speaking with them. Kids were innocent and often were harmless.

This wasn’t the case with teenagers. “Queens.”

Steve smirked. “Brooklyn.”

Silence washed over them again, slightly awkward though Steve could tell it was only because Peter was still wound with tension. The mob boss tapped his finger against the table after a while and sighed. “We aren’t going to hurt you, Peter, I hope that you’ll see that. In fact, I want to ask you to join the family.” Peter’s hard stare was the only thing that greeted Steve back. It made Steve wonder how many people had opened their homes to him, only for them to burn him in the end. “We would all protect you. Teach you the ropes. I could get you into a school in Brooklyn that would suit a kid like you.”

“A kid without a home. A kid who burns buildings as a means to ridding himself of problems. A kid who cried when his first family died and stopped cry after he left the second. Tell me, _Captain,_ how you offering your family to me doesn’t seem like a raven's warning.” Steve supposed that the kid had a point.

Steve sat up more. “If you let us try I can promise that you won’t feel the need to run anymore. You’ll be able to stand tall, face anyone with your chin high and-”

Peter’s eyes shifted to someone who’d entered the room. His eyes seemed trusting to whomever it was. Steve glanced himself and smiled at the red head. Natasha took a seat next to Steve and stared at Peter for a second. “Don’t sell out your life yet, Peter. We want to help you. Forget what you think you know about normal Mob’s. Our group, our family is different. We don’t sell drugs, or pilfer guns around. We stop things like that. Something that the Merchant can’t offer you, and something Osborn likely can’t offer in Queens.” She held out a hand to Peter with a shockingly kind smirk. “Give us a shot at least. I promise that we have your best interest at heart.”

There was some silence, a lot really. But eventually, Peter nodded and took the woman’s hand. Romanov seemed to be satisfied with the result and rose from her seat. “Steve thought you should know that Rumlow is recovering. He’s sorry, but I doubt that he’ll be ready for anything for a few weeks more.” Steve nodded before rising.

“He should listen next time.” He saw the faint look of a smirk on Nat’s face before it went away and the same cold mask replaced it.

“I’ll inform Barnes of this then and get back out there. Barton will return in a few and once he does I’ll take off.” Steve nodded and she left. Leaving Steve with Peter who seemed to have taken up scratching up the table.

Steve glanced at the kid. He wondered what Peter enjoyed doing. Roger’s could only guess that the kid felt supremely bored and out of it. Everyone around him was a lot older besides the twins, but even they were closer to upper classmen than freshmen. Steve opened his mouth but shut it just as fast when Clint slammed through the doorway.

“We have a problem.”

 

 

Steve and Clint took off down the hallway, stopping once they reached the main area of the warehouse. In the center of it all stood eight goons, as Steve was sure Barton was calling them in his head area 51 knock offs, and one man in the middle that seemed more than pleased to be there in front of them. For the most part, the man seemed slim, smaller than Steve. His hair was dark. He wore an expensive three-piece black suit, matching black shoes. It only frustrated Steve that he couldn’t see the man’s face. It was as if the lighting couldn’t hit his face and it was shrouded in darkness. Hiding any noticeable features that might give away who he is. Most members of the family had their guns trained on the intruders, but it didn’t seem to falter the man in the middle of them all.

“I see that your greetings are about as similar as my own. Though I thought that with your self-righteous act back in Brooklyn that you would have thrown all of those away.” The man, whose face Steve couldn’t see, was pointing to the guns that everyone was holding. “Old habits. I’ve heard that they die young.” The man practically growled the last bit as guns shot out from the goons’ coats, all trained back on Steve’s family. The man held nothing. Arrogant.  

Steve held up a hand and slowly they all lowered their guns. When they did, so did the goons. The man stepped out from the center when Steve approached, seeming to burst from all the energy that was held in his body. There was one word going through his brain at that moment about the man.

_Crazy._

Along with a thought of unpredictable nature. He seemed too eager to pull a trigger, too mouth-watering unsated for the likelihood that there would be bloodshed should he give the order. Steve nearly felt the need for himself to pull out his revolver from his waistband in the back of his trousers. When they stopped, five feet between them, he heard the man give a small cackle. “Interesting. You don’t know who I am, do you?”

Steve’s eyes narrowed at the man, hand twitching at his side to move to the back of his pants. From the small bit of laughter, Steve had to assume that his movement hadn’t gone unnoticed. “So, touchy, Captain.”

“Who the heck are you?” He growled at the man who, if Steve could see his face, was grinning from ear to ear.

“Why I’m the mayor of this land. Its king. I’m the Merchant of Death.” Air stopped flowing through the room. Steve was sure that he’d heard every small breath that his family members were taking. The man turned away from Steve suddenly, walking over to a crate that held close to nothing inside of it besides a few guns should any of their own go to crap. “Shocked? I’m sure. You see I don’t get out much, but when Tony mentioned that he was looking up the name Barnes I had to check it for myself. It’s not often that a name from the Irish Mob pops up in Manhattan. Your lot tends to keep your tails tucked away in Brooklyn where my guns can’t reach you.”

“Can’t or won’t. Afraid of us, _Merchant_?”

It seemed to hit a nerve. The Merchant spun on his heel and held out a small caliber gun towards Steve’s direction. “Won’t. I have no need to expand over into Brooklyn. I’m capable of taking the world out from under everyone from where I stand here.” The joking tone left, and Steve couldn’t feel the sharp edges of the grin nailing into him. “Howard broke it off with your little group long before Barnes died. Yet you still tried to go to him for help?” The Merchant turned the barrel towards the ceiling, sighing. “You don’t know the first thing about territories, do you?”

Steve knew. He did. But he’d thought that he could call on the aide of an old friend, someone who became like a mentor to him when he first showed some interest in mob business. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Everyone flinched when the Merchant fired a bullet up towards the ceiling. Steve heard the soft thud of a bullet hitting metal but didn’t flinch when the Merchant came closer towards him. “I don’t fear anything, Captain. I am as close as it comes to a god here.” Steve doubted that. No one was considered that, not for people like him and the Merchant. They were expendable when the time was right. When it was there time people didn’t hesitate to throw the old into the garbage and roll on with the new blood.

“There’s only one God sir, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t dress like that.” Suddenly Steve could breathe again, the air forced itself into his lungs when he felt a small punch come off of his rib cage. Steve hadn’t noticed that the Merchant had gotten within punching distance of him. _Unpredictable. Like I had thought._

Guns cocked fast. Steve was sure that Bucky was close to shooting with his pistol when he’d heard the Merchant speak again. “Keep off the streets, don’t make a fuss. If I hear that you are arms dealing, drug dealing, or even trying to spread your peace and tranquility around Manhattan I will gun you down faster than you can even blink.” And with that, the Merchant snapped his fingers, returned to the center of the men who had arrived with him, and walked out of the warehouse the way he must have come in.

Through the front door.

 

 

 

 

_“That was risky, Tony, and you know it.”_

“You worry too much, Obie. I wasn’t giving away anything-”

_“That doesn’t matter! I listened back over the recording. You sounded insane. If this gets out you’ll risk losing control of Manhattan, fast.”_ Tony scowled at his video messenger on his phone. Obie had called a few minutes after Tony had sent him the recording of his meeting with the Captain. It was late in Manhattan, but early over in Hong Kong. _“For now, keep away from the Irish Mob. We’ll discuss what to do about them later once I’m back state side. Get some sleep, Tony.”_

The CEO closed out of his video message board, grinding his teeth together as he walked through his mansion. “ _Might I suggest a film to help you relax sir?_ ” JARVIS’ automated voice followed Tony when he walked over to his personal bar, pouring himself a good amount of scotch. A television screen lit up across the room.

Tony took a gulp of his drink before wandering over to where the screen was. An action movie was suggested on the screen. “Play it JAR.” The opening credits soon took over and Tony sat down on the couch in front of it.

It wasn’t uncommon for Tony to wonder if it would be more enjoyable if some of his family were here with him. Watching a movie with him like a real family. All of them laughing over the jokes on screen, someone being made fun of for crying when the protagonist ‘dies’ close to the end of the movie. _It was a family that made you crave solitude in the first place, Tony. Stop wishing for pain._

Tony nodded to the voice, trying to relax further into the couch. A call suddenly showed up on the screen, interrupting the man who was just starting his villainous monolog. “Sour Patch!” Tony exclaimed, throwing his arms over the back of the sofa.

_“Tones, how’s it going?”_ Tony took in the other man’s voice and felt a sense of calm overcome him.

“Same as always. What about you? I haven’t heard from you since I went out of the US of A.” There were some garbled noises on the other side of the line until Tony heard his friend once more.

_“It’s going well here, just had a bit of training to go over before I was able to call. Figured I’d let you mourn my leaving before I ripped the band aid off.”_ The Merchant rolled his eyes, rising from the couch to wander back over to where he could refill his scotch.

He poured himself another glass, “You wound me.” He took a sip. “Got a question for you though.”

_“Shoot.”_

“What should I do about the Mob that’s shown up in Manhattan?” There was a long pause before there was anything remotely spoken over the line. Tony could only assume that it was Rhodey getting to an area where he wouldn’t be disturbed or overheard.

When Rhodey spoke again, it was serious. _“You’re lucky that the phone you gave me is a secure line, or else you would be outed to the army very quickly.”_ A smirk played over Tony’s face. _“Now what are you talking about? The Irish run out of Brooklyn, and only there. Same with us about Manhattan. You’re telling me that they want a territory brawl?”_ The CEO shook his head.

“No, I’m not saying that, but they are in Manhattan. Their leader is young, might not know about the squabble Barnes had with my old man.” _Otherwise, I would have gunned them down already._

_“I’m shocked you haven’t shot any of them yet.”_

“You don’t know that.” A chuckle broke through from Rhodey’s side. Tony was sure that he was pinching the bridge of his nose. “Besides, I came close to just shooting Roger’s in between the eyes and being done with him entirely.”

_“Tony.”_  He knew that it wasn’t reasonable. For a while, Rhodey had to quell Tony’s blood lust after his father’s ‘accidental’ death. Tony was sure that it was that week alone that earned him the title ‘Merchant of Death’. _“I’ll be back soon. I promise. Do me a favor and stay out of trouble with them until then.”_ It was the best thing that Tony had heard all day from anyone.

“I promise, Honeybear.” With that, they shot off their goodbyes and Tony was left in silence. The movie was still paused.

“JARVIS, patch me through to Loki.”

“ _Right away, sir.”_ There was silence for a little while before Tony heard the familiar tells of silent breathing coming through the speakers.

“You know, I appreciate updates. Those are still things that we do for one another.” Tony’s voice cut through the silence quickly, though not rising as he didn’t want to compromise Loki should he be in a situation that wasn’t good for him.

There was a small pause. _“Next time warn me which gang it is and you’ll get your bloody updates. I thought I was going to have a heart attack when I saw my brother walking on the streets of Manhattan. You know how I loath to see him in my vicinity.”_ Tony bit his bottom lip. _Thor._ This wasn’t good, especially when his relationship with Loki was touch and go as it was.

Tony cleared his throat, “I didn’t know who it was until I met their leader this afternoon. They haven’t moved from that warehouse, have they?” There was some jostling on the other end along with a groan.

_“No, they didn’t leave after you’d wandered in there. In fact, they have a guard out right now, and you know who it is? Thor freakin’ Odinson!”_ That last part was practically yelled into Tony’s speakers, but it was muted for the most part by Loki’s teeth.

“I keep getting this vibe that you’re upset.”

_“I’m hanging up.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone, for the kudos! 
> 
>  
> 
> Next update, Saturday!


	4. I need some scotch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rooftop fun. "I'm currently running for my life!"  
> Thor gets to talk to his brother  
> And Logan is having none of the Irish mobs crap right now  
> Deadpool Cameo!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize... I've had a busy couple of weeks. I was mostly done with this chapter then I was working a lot and having to get ready for vacation. 
> 
> I finished it and I it's just... 
> 
> I really dislike this chapter. 
> 
> Please forgive all the stupid crap and bad jokes within this text. 
> 
> This is a disgrace to all things that are Marvel. 
> 
>  
> 
> I'll do better in the next chapter.

It was the high places that no one dare look. People always looking left and right, even down, but they rarely ever look up. It was something that Clint relied on when he went out, especially on a job. There were a few others in the family that understood what Clint was on about when he spoke about liking high places. Those few others being Natasha, and Bucky. Though Natasha liked to stay close to the ground the few jobs that Clint went with her on generally involved her evading gun men by falling from above. Clint knew that she trusted his judgement on this. As for Bucky, he was a sniper. He was used to getting a shot from a higher ground and knew that many didn’t think to look above for the big hunk of muscle that he was… is. Running from the cops, same principle. He and Bucky were running along rooftops, evading and stopping often enough that they were sure that the cops didn’t know where they were anymore. Clint and Bucky had been running through a checklist handed to Bucky from Peter, who’d been given it by Steve. It was simple enough, scout in this area, don’t get spotted, report back, don’t forget the milk this time D&#^it! Clint still forgot the milk. It was because of this that they had been spotted by the police in the first place. Bucky should have guessed that Clint’s arsenal wasn’t all the way hidden as they would have hoped. Now they were parked on 32nd, twiddling their thumbs until they were sure that they weren’t going to be jumped by any more cops. “Next time, I’m bringing Natasha along.” Bucky muttered, using his knife to cut some of the calluses from his hands. Clint made a hurt sound, but he didn’t argue with it. The milk was still sitting on the grocery store floor where Clint had dropped it running from the officer that had held a gun towards him. Bucky had been smart to get them out when he did. Clint might have gotten them on the Merchant’s radar by accident. “Maybe Steve shouldn’t put grocery items on the list nest time.” It wasn’t reasonable considering where they were from, though. The grocers knew them in Brooklyn. They weren’t troubled by the sight of Clint with a gun like the people were in Manhattan. The Merchant may sell guns here, but he didn’t seem to fire them all that often in the public eye. The man was a shadow

Running from the cops, same principle. He and Bucky were running along rooftops, evading and stopping often enough that they were sure that the cops didn’t know where they were anymore. Clint and Bucky had been running through a checklist handed to Bucky from Peter, who’d been given it by Steve. It was simple enough, scout in this area, don’t get spotted, report back, don’t forget the milk this time D&#^it! Clint still forgot the milk. It was because of this that they had been spotted by the police in the first place. Bucky should have guessed that Clint’s arsenal wasn’t all the way hidden as they would have hoped. 

Now they were parked on 32nd, twiddling their thumbs until they were sure that they weren’t going to be jumped by any more cops. “Next time, I’m bringing Natasha along.” Bucky muttered, using his knife to cut some of the calluses from his hands. 

Clint made a hurt sound, but he didn’t argue with it. The milk was still sitting on the grocery store floor where Clint had dropped it running from the officer that had held a gun towards him. Bucky had been smart to get them out when he did. Clint might have gotten them on the Merchant’s radar by accident. “Maybe Steve shouldn’t put grocery items on the list nest time.” It wasn’t reasonable considering where they were from, though. The grocers knew them in Brooklyn. They weren’t troubled by the sight of Clint with a gun like the people were in Manhattan. The Merchant may sell guns here, but he didn’t seem to fire them all that often in the public eye. The man was a shadow to these people, they didn’t see him and he kept doing business under the table without their knowledge. In all honesty, it probably made the Merchant’s job all the easier. No one knew his face. Anyone could be him and they would never know. “I just want to get back to the safe house. Sitting out here is making my skin crawl.” Bucky nodded in agreement with him. After the Merchant visited them it wasn’t just Steve who was on edge. Everyone who had seen the exchange, minus Nat who was out getting intel, had been offset by what the man could seemingly do with only his presence. 

“I say another five minutes then we take off. We shouldn’t stick around here longer than we should.” Neither moved. But Clint silently agreed. “Steve is going to be so pissed.” Bucky muttered after a minute. “I saw you holster, I just didn’t think about what the people around us would think. It was probably one of the Merchant’s men that really noticed it though. I don’t think some mother would have seen your holster and thought twice about it.” 

Clint flung a pebble at the other. “Don’t beat yourself up about it terminator. I’m sure that Steve will just be glad we make it home safe. By the way, I’m still impressed with what you’re able to do with one arm.” Bucky smirked at the other, throwing a pebble back at him. “I’m serious. How many one armed guys can say that they can lift their bodies up onto a rooftop with as much ease as you do?” 

“Keep talking like that and I might have to ask you to dinner Barton.” Bucky chuckled with Clint as they walked towards a fire escape. 

“Gotta warn you, I’m not some cheap date.” Was Clint’s reply. It was always surprising to Clint how close he and Bucky had actually become due to Bucky’s injury. When he and Bucky had first been introduced to one another, Bucky had already been without his arm. Physical therapy was a part of Buck’s daily routine, but he had been around the base with Steve when Clint first arrived. Steve had found Clint after a job gone wrong. He’d been bleeding out in an alley, trying to force the blood to stop. Steve had taken Clint in without a second thought when he saw him. Once Clint joined the base he met Bucky and they talked from there. Bucky was sarcastic and held a similar likeness to Clint that he didn’t see much in other people. It was relaxing after nearly dying. 

“The F$*&…” Both men stopped staring at the man who clambered up the fire escape, cutting them off and glaring at them. “Who the f#&$ are you?” 

 

 

 

“ _I’m going to kill you one of these days, Stark._ ” Loki’s voice was snarky through the speakers. Tony put down the blow torch, pushing up his face mask to glare at the speakers. Loki had given him an update after their initial spout, and promised to call him should anything change with the mob. 

“What happened, Laufeyson?” 

“ _I have two here on the roof of a building at 32nd… They are hostile and I’ve already thrown a knife in warning. One of them only has one arm, and the other one has a bow… What sort of sane person has a bow?_ ” Tony went through whom he remembered was a part of the Irish Mob. _The only known members… Barnes and Rogers… I did see a guy with bow though._ There were soft curses from Loki’s side suddenly, and he could hear the rush of air as the man seemed to take off. “Loki?” 

“ _Not now. Running for my life!_ ” The CEO hurried over to his computer, pulling up Loki’s tracking information from his phone. Loki was well away from 32nd but he was still going at a fast pace away from where he had cornered the two Irish mob members. 

“Who’s after you?” Tony saw that Loki picked up speed suddenly. “Did you hijack a car?” The heavy breathing was his only answer. He could only assume that Loki’s phone was clutched in his fist and he was too paranoid to bring it up to his ear again. So instead Tony worked on opening up the streets for him. “If you can hear me, and are just ignoring me get here as soon as possible. The security will stem off whoever’s after you.” 

“ _Freaking Odinson! Stark, STARK! You better have a plan. I will not listen to my brother’s mightier than thou speech while my shoulder is bleeding because of his insane friends._ ” Loki’s voice was full of venom, the same venom that Tony remembered from the first time that Tony had met the man. 

Loki had wandered into Manhattan from across the sea. He hadn’t thought anything of the man until he caused an uproar by attacking some of Tony’s men with throwing knives. To say that Tony was confident while facing Loki was an overstatement. He didn’t think that he’d be able to kill the man if he hadn’t been impressed by Tony in the first place. Loki had stopped fighting the moment that the Merchant arrived. It didn’t take the man long to find out that he was also Tony Stark as well. 

For the most part Loki and Tony had hit it off after they stopped fighting each other. Tony thought that Loki was intelligent, and Loki thought Tony to be entertaining. They were hard to separate from one another as Tony used Loki for almost all undercover operations. “ _STARK!_ ” 

“Head back to base. I’ll inform security that you’ll be peeling in and you can join me in the lab. We’ll wait them out then go on the offensive once-” 

“ _S &$^…_” The Merchant’s stomach dropped at the sound of Loki’s voice. “ _I really hate his guts._ ” The phone line disconnected. Tony’s heart was starting to race when the silence was filled with the dial tone. Standing up from his chair Tony quickly raced to where he kept his spar suit and called up some of his other family members. “I don’t care, Logan, just get there.” He growled into the phone, pushing up his tie in time to curse at the fact that he’d gotten a finger stuck in the knot somehow. “Call Wilson, tell him to bring all the guns. Yes, I’m being serious. This is Loki! He doesn’t hang up on me unless he’s in trouble or actually pissed off with me… Just get there.” 

 

 

 

“Loki, you knew better than to run.” The dark haired man raised his head, spitting some of the blood that gathered in his mouth onto the floor of the warehouse. He’d been dragged back to the Irish mob’s place of operations. “I thought you dead, but instead you have been here trampling around like a spy and mercenary. What would mother think of you?” 

“Your mother, Thor. **_Yours._** Besides I was tired of living in your shadow, I thought a change in scenery was necessary.” Steve watched the two ‘brothers’ from across the room. Bucky had tried to justify punching the man in the face. 

“ _He threw knives at us Steve. I think I deserve at least this._ ” 

Regardless Steve has a rag ready for the man after Bucky’s hand connected with his nose. Loki hadn’t exactly taken it, but didn’t seem to complain when it meant that the blood would stop pooling into his mouth uncomfortably. The rag was now on the ground, after Loki had thrown it at Thor, whom had walked into walking intentionally towards the smaller man. Everyone was waiting for Thor to start wailing on the man for that alone, but Thor had simply put his hands on his hips and spoke down at Loki as if he were in trouble with a parent. Steve had to wonder what they must have been like as children when Thor acted this way. It was the calmest he had ever seen the man. 

“I don’t see why were just talking with him.” Clint was twirling one of Loki’s knives next to Steve, glaring at the man. “If anything he’d be able to give us info right? I mean the Merchant must trust this guy to have him try to corner us on a rooftop.” Steve nodded, but he didn’t move to remedy the situation. Loki looked mildly pissed off with the situation. His glare was mostly directed at Thor, but Steve had felt it move over to him from time to time. 

Steve sighed. “Thor won’t let any of us touch him after Bucky tried breaking his nose.” Clint snorted but didn’t seem to have more to say until Bucky walked back into the room. His bloody knuckles were still wet from where he’d tried to wash off the blood but hadn’t been too successful. When the right hand walked in Loki seemed to flinch upon noticing him. Steve thought that at least Loki tried to avoid conflict with someone twice if he could help it. 

“Are you listening to me, Loki? Father and mother both were upset when you left home.” Loki shook his head then. “You refuse to believe this, but it is true. Father was in the hospital for weeks with a weak heart after you had gone. Mother didn’t leave his side.” 

“Well isn’t that precious? Your parents must care so much for one another. What am I supposed to do for you? Tell you that you’re right, that I was foolish and return to the manor with apologies on my tongue even though I would mean none of it? No, Thor, I think that I would rather stay here and be these dolts punching bag.” Steve saw Bucky stiffen at the jab. “I will not go home. That frozen wasteland holds nothing for me. Here I have made a name for myself away from the shadow of Thor, away from the all-seeing eyes of our father.” That seemed to shake Thor slightly as he raised a hand to placate the man. 

Steve didn’t understand entirely what was happening between the two brothers. If he were being honest he’d let Loki go. The man had only thrown the knives in warning, something that anyone with their background would have done to show that they were with the power house of the area. _The Merchant._ Loki hadn’t explained how close he was with the man. Steve had been curious but Thor had entered the room before he could ask for more. 

“Loki, you speak as if you are not one with this reality.” Steve’s head snapped up to stare at them. What had that meant? 

While watching Thor Peter wandered into the room. He yawned, taking in everyone in the room before sitting down next to Steve. “Who’s the new guy?” Peter asked, twirling his chair around and sitting in it backwards. 

Steve stretched his shoulders, setting an arm back and around Peter’s shoulders. Feeling the other tense then relax eventually. “He said his name is Loki. He works for the Merchant of Death. We were hoping to get some information out of him, but Thor has forbidden us from using the usual ways.” Peter seemed to raise a brow at that. 

“Thor forbids it? What’s up with that?” Steve sighed 

“Said that he is his brother. Apparently, Thor had travelled over here to do some business and heard a rumor that Loki was alive somewhere in New York. He stuck around in the states to find him. Sort of how I found him. He joined after he thought that his quest for Loki was destined for failure.” He gave Peter a shrug. “We’ll see where this takes us I suppose.” 

“Let me take you home, at least tell father yourself that you are safe here.” 

“I can’t promise that.” Loki’s eyes seemed far away in that moment. Steve noticed when he returned his attention to the two. From what Steve could tell, Loki seemed to be well off. His clothing was nice, tailored, The Merchant obviously took care of those that he called his family. 

Thor rested his hand on Loki’s neck then, bringing the man face to angle towards him, but Loki’s eyes steered away. “Loki…” 

“I believe the Merchant expressed how upset he would be should you go against his orders.” Thor was suddenly punched to the side, away from Loki. The smaller, darker man seemed to smirk at the sight and rose to greet whoever had arrived. A man in a red coat and with a butt ton of ammo stood in front of Loki. His face was obscured with a mask, and if Steve was gauging his height correctly he wasn’t much older than Peter. 

Behind the teen, if Steve was to follow his guess, was a burly man who seemed to hold a flask tight in his right fist. “Merchant might ask for your head next time if you aren’t careful Captain. He doesn’t like people messing with his stuff.” The man sounded bored, as if it were more of a chore for him to be there. 

Bucky was brandishing a knife beside Steve, taking a defensive stance up next to him. Peter was behind Steve, and everyone else… They were locked and loaded on the new comers. Thor seemed to be the only unarmed man there, but Steve knew better. “We weren’t harming him, you can tell the Merchant that. But I want to know what’s with the tail? We didn’t do anything that would cause too much attention.” 

“Tell that to the folks who were chasing some of your boys around downtown. The Merchant had to explain a few things to the cops to keep it low key.” The man watched as the younger escorted Loki back towards him. “It doesn’t matter now though. You have your warning, next time you’ll lose an eye, then well be back to sharing beers by Wednesday. Same loop as it will ever be with him.” The three made way for the exit. 

Before the left Thor made a growling noise at them, curling his hands into fists. “Do not touch me again.” He warned, but they were already out the door before Thor could speak again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave kudos and comments for previous chapters....
> 
>  
> 
> Feel free to take away cookies for this one. 
> 
> Hopeful update for sometime next week!


	5. I'm the wolf in sheep's clothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve decides enough is enough. Tony reflects on his life choices and strikes a deal. 
> 
> Stevie is a little worse for wear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early? Possibly... Because I've been writing this without much complication. Also, Panic! At the Disco is oddly good music to listen to while writing and editing. 
> 
> More proud of this one than the last chapter!

“Laufeyson is an informant for the Italian Mob.” Steve turned away from the view of Manhattan to look back at Natasha. Her fiery red hair was tame in the shadows of the warehouse. Her eyes seemed darker than they had been in Brooklyn, almost more paranoid. Steve wished that he knew how to help her feel more at ease, but there was a lot that he himself didn’t know how to handle. The Merchant knew their hideout, they were probably being watched even worse now, and he didn’t know the man real name… Just who his supplier was. Steve sighed, shrugging his shoulders as a means to allow her to be closer.

She took the offer readily, sitting down next to him though not touching. _Baby steps._ That was the game that Steve seemed to play with Natasha all the time when he’d first met her. Off and on. In the compound for weeks on end, away from all of them for a month. She didn’t trust easy, but she and Barton seemed to get along once they chatted for a while on the roof once. It was after making one friend that she made several others. Sam and Nat didn’t talk much, but Steve could recall seeing them in the den back at headquarters watching a James Bond film together and throwing popcorn at the screen anytime the bad guy showed up on screen. “Where were you yesterday?” Natasha still distrusted Steve and Bucky.

Natasha shrugged. “Perusing, trying to get a feel for the city. It’s dark here. Darker than most. It feels like home at times then I see families walk down the road without a feeling of dread coming over them. I do not understand what it is that the Merchant does here. He barely shows his face, apparently, and he threatens anyone he deems as a threat… Stark supplies him with cash, and weapons for the streets.” She sighed, bringing her knees up to her chest. “We act as if we are immortal here, but that was Brooklyn. Here… Here we are threatened by Cerberus and his owner Hades. They aren’t willing to give us admittance into Hell.”

Greek mythology aside Steve knew that this was a vulnerability for Natasha. She didn’t make herself seem weak, she didn’t allow emotions through. Bucky had joked that it was because she was Russian and that most of them acted cold. But now Steve was certain that this was bad, and it would likely get worse. “We’ll storm Hell then and take it by force.”

“It won’t be easy, Steve. When Hades joins the fight many don’t come back alive.” He could believe it. Getting up on his feet Steve offered a hand to her and they wandered back to the warehouse. Not many of the family slept well that night. Many of them were asleep in cots, at the moment, and trying to get some shut eye before heading out on the town. Bucky was playing cards with Clint.

“Gin.” Clint’s voice cut through the small bit of silence that was around them and Steve grinned when Bucky threw down his cards with a sigh. “You suck at this, Buck. What about king’s corners?” Bucky shook his head.

“No, I just don’t have any luck when I play anything but poker.” Clint shrugged, picking up the cards and reshuffling them. Natasha took up a spot next to Clint while Steve took over his place beside Bucky. “How’s the brooding? Get bored already?”

Steve punched his shoulder lightly, taking the cards that Clint dealt out and placed them in order. _Suits._ He looked over at Natasha, whose head was resting on Clint’s shoulder. He was sure that she could see Clint’s cards, she’d likely win. “I didn’t get bored, just decided that maybe we stop letting the Merchant walk over us. We used to have a truce with them, I’d be willing to try for one with him. Howard fell out with Barnes for some reason…” Bucky seemed to stiffen at the mentioning of Howard again, but relaxed seconds later.

Clint seemed to just stare at Steve for a minute before laying down a two of spades, Steve picked it up to place with his three and four of spades, he set down a Queen of hearts. “If we run into the Merchant again… Who’s to say that he won’t actually shoot you this time?” Steve shrugged.

“I won’t keep my gun hidden this time if he does try.”

 

 

 

245 people were killed the day/month that Tony claimed his title, Merchant of Death. After Howard had died several men and women alike approached Obadiah for the leadership position within the mob. Tony had been at MIT at the time. Justin Hammer’s father was the likeliest candidate for next leader, but they hadn’t thought about Tony. Young, innocent, ‘stay over there and be quiet’ Tony Stark. Who’d been taking shooting lessons since he was young, listening in on most of his dad’s business meetings while his father acted as if he weren’t there. Tony knew the family like the back of his hand, knew everyone, who was trustworthy, who would stab him in the back.

Anthony Edward Stark.

Prince to an unforgiving throne.

When Tony had shown up unexpectedly on the day that Obadiah was going to sign over the family to Hammer, Tony had wandered in with a pistol. Locked and loaded. Aimed. Shot a small hole into the forehead of Hammer before signing the bottom line himself as the new Italian Mob leader. After that Tony didn’t stop firing for a month. He’d shot several men on that one day alone, then proceeded to take down everyone that he viewed a threat to the family. Tony was on his way to shoot Obadiah when Rhodey stopped him.

“You can’t solve everything with this reckless violence, Tones. They’ll kill you if you don’t get yourself under control.” Rhodey, a voice of reason and the one person who Tony could see never double crossing him. So, Tony had stopped, only pulling the trigger himself when he saw it necessary. Twice so far.

Tony was drunk when they happened so he couldn’t recall the names, but in his haze, he could remember that they were important to some other gang in Manhattan. It was to keep his family safe. They were necessary… So why did he wake up in sweat at the vague memory of their scared faces? The blood splattering over the concrete. The final screams of two dying men. Tony didn’t know why.

“Mr. Stark?” Tony blinked. The board of directors had called a meeting that afternoon, thankfully for Tony’s caffeine addiction, and he’d been there for at least an hour and a half. He looked around to the other round old faces, minus Clark who seemed built like a freight train but was smart and young.

Tony sat up straighter in his chair, putting his fingers together lightly. “Sorry. Please restate.”

Some of the board members exchanged glances. Tony should have brought a coffee mug with him. He glanced to the coaster. Oh… He had. “Mr. Stark, we think that making a deal with some of the veterans overseas might help our stock prices. We believe that if maybe you were to give a live demonstration to them that they would be more willing to make a deal with us.” _Same story. Different characters._ Tony could have sworn that they were Obadiah in tandem plus more.

“I’ve already told Obadiah that I can’t leave for personal reasons. If they want a live demonstration then they can put up with one of our other salesmen. They don’t need me specifically.” Scowls. Tony hated scowls. His finger twitched, he stopped himself. No. No. Stop that.

Shortly after that, they ended the meeting, much to Tony’s pleasure. Walking out to his car Tony had never felt more relaxed. But soon enough his dream came back full force and the frown covered his face faster than a punch to his face. What could he possibly do to get rid of this feeling? “Feeling blue, Stark?” Tony jumped slightly before glaring at the man who sat in his convertible. Loki sipped on a latte, hair up, sunglasses down, and nails seemingly freshly done.

“Didn’t expect you here.” Tony stated, “Shouldn’t you be… stalking?” Loki sighed, putting down his latte and taking off the glasses. His hard stare was enough to make Tony regret his joking nature to the raven-haired man. There was a good-sized bruise forming over the man’s face. It was partially hidden due to the concealer that Loki had likely swiped from Tony’s bathroom.

“I think that Wilson is good enough to leave to do that. They’re stupid, don’t change their hideout, and barely ever leave the more that we confront them. They’ll be underground before you know it.” Loki returned the glasses to his face, though left his drink alone. Tony clambered in himself, picking up the latte and taking a sip. It was gross but Tony needed the pick me up.

Starting the car Tony started off back for his home. The tower. “I’m shocked that you trust Wilson to stay quiet enough to not be spotted.” Tony plastered a grin on his face, hoping to dissuade anyone who might know that they were having a serious conversation. Loki mirrored him.

“He isn’t entirely out of the know when it comes to keeping his mouth shut. Though I probably should have asked Logan instead, but he was already drunk and I didn’t think that I had the patience to try and tell him what to do.” Tony knew that Loki was probably right. He didn’t like explaining anything to a drunk Logan either. “Besides, if they see Wilson I doubt they’ll try anything. He knocked Thor on his A$% with a single punch. They all looked as if they were going to crap themselves.” Tony laughed heartedly along with Loki. He could imagine Wilson, 17-year-old Wilson, throwing punches at men that were over twice his size.

“That kid has some balls I swear to it. I should consider sending him on to just do mercenary work, he has close to no fear.” Loki nodded in agreement, finally starting to drink from his latte again. A comfortable silence filled around them. Tony relaxed into it.

Once they pulled into the private garage of the tower Tony walked into the building with Loki not too far behind. What Tony saw next was surprising. In front of him, in his lobby, was Steve Rogers and James Barnes. The CEO had stopped in the doorway and had his hands behind his back. He sent a sign to Loki before walking in with a grin on his face. “Captain! I wasn’t expecting you.”

“You hadn’t called. I wanted to see if you were able to find that file we had talked about.” Tony’s eyes shined a moment at them. They both weren’t hard on the eyes, he could easily take note of that. Steve Rogers had that apple pie, sweet as peaches look to him. He looked like the type of man that would walk a grandmother across the road, and even accept her horrible tasting tea and still say it was delicious. He didn’t look Mob boss at all. Barnes was different. It was obvious to Tony that he was the son of the former boss, though the lack of an arm made him slightly less intimidating.

Tony walked past them to his elevator. It would lead to his office and he wouldn’t have to worry about them seeing Loki sneak in to take the stairs. “I apologize Captain. We hadn’t had much luck on finding it. I’m fearful that it will be in my father’s paper files, and there are stacks upon stacks of those.”

“Perhaps there is a way we could make the process faster?” Steve was fast (eager?) to offer his help. Tony could only think of the word desperate when he thought about it further.

He shook his head. “I’m afraid that I have several of my secretaries looking for this file. If I can’t find it I’m afraid that you’ll be out of luck.” He noticed Steve bite his lip, though Tony didn’t make a show that he noticed, nor did he acknowledge the light tremor deep in his gut at the sight.

Tony was slightly shocked at how silent Barnes was being about this. He figured that he would be trying to offer some spelling of his name, or offering some other name to search but he was quiet. Quiet as the winter night. He shivered at the thought. “Could we possibly work something out should you not find the file? I would appreciate some sort of compromise.” Tony looked to Barnes and Rogers. They both seemed out of their depth, but Tony just stared at them. They hadn’t even made it to his office yet.

“I’m sorry but I can’t do that without-”

“Without talking to the Merchant?” Tony twirled around quickly and glared at Barnes. It was the first thing he’d said in this conversation, and Tony could tell that Roger’s hadn’t wanted to say anything about it. He had his face in one of his hands now.

It wasn’t on public record that he was working with the Merchant, but it was in knowledge to most of Manhattan. Though no one really said this fact out loud. “I’m afraid that I don’t associate with the Merchant, Mr. Barnes.”

“Sure. Because I’m sure he wasn’t the one who told you my last name.” Tony cursed under his breath, glancing around before ushering them into his office quickly.

Taking a seat on the edge of his desk Tony scowled at the both of them. They didn’t take a seat, they remained standing. With the revelation now obvious Steve let go of his easy shield, scowling at Tony with blue piercing eyes. (Hadn’t already mentioned how he doesn’t like scowls?) “Alright, fine. I’m close to the Merchant, but to get anything done in this town I must be close to the man who holds the cards. I give him guns he protects me. It’s a give and take relationship.”

Steve crossed his arms across his broad chest. Tony ignored the stretch of the shirt. “What happens then when he thinks he can get better guns from someone else? Who protects you then?” Tony cocked his head to the side, a small grin starting to form on his face.

“I make the best. No one else in the firearms industry can match up to what I can make. I get offers from the military left and right for the guns that I could provide them. I’m not that worried about my significance to the Merchant.” Both men seemed to stiffen up more at his statement. Tony wondered what they had been expecting. He could guess that they were hoping that Tony would become worried with his place in the family, as the supplier. But they didn’t know Manhattan like Tony did. They didn’t know who was the strongest.

He, The Merchant of Death, was the strongest.

He’d made men fall to their knees and beg for mercy. Tony knew how to bride and flirt his way out of a situation and back fire it on them before they realized what had happened. He was the chaos that no one could control. The swipe of a few keys and Tony had control of the grid. A few calls and all important political figures were his lives to control.

_Please, Tony, don’t do this._

“Mr. Stark, I just wish to talk with you about getting some land. We don’t have to find the file. I just want a place where I can get settled here for business.” Tony blinked rapidly. He hadn’t said anything after… Where had that voice come from? “Are you listening?”

“Yes.” Tony straightened his shoulders, hoping to get rid of the odd voices that were taking precedence in the back of his mind. Rogers and Barnes were both watching him carefully, though neither one spoke directly. “We can discuss these negotiations but allow me to talk with my PA about it. She will find me potential places for you to settle in of properties that are not currently in use. If you please,” Tony gestured for the door, “I have important business to attend to so I mustn’t be disturbed. And this time, Mr. Rogers, I don’t want you to suddenly drop by my office. I will call you.” With that both broad shouldered men left the office, and Tony…

He collapsed in his chair.

 

 

 

Peter liked the late-night events well enough. The warehouse was quiet, just like it had been for the past two weeks that he’d been with the family. Sometimes one of the other members would be awake, but most of the time it was only Peter. Tonight, was different.

Steve was sitting by the window that held a good view of the Manhattan skyline. There was an abandoned sketchbook next to him, so Peter figured he was lost in thought. “Couldn’t sleep?” Peter jumped at the soft voice behind him. Bucky walked up to the teen, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall. His eyes were also on Steve, a look of sincere sadness coming over his face.

“You could say that,” Peter stated, glancing back to Steve. The mob boss hadn’t seemed to hear them. Far too lost. “What happened with Stark… two days ago. Do you think that he’ll call Steve? He admitted to being close with the Merchant to you both.”

Bucky sighed, “The Merchant and Stark are hard to read. They might be good family friends. Howard, Tony’s father, was the boss before the Merchant. I’m a little shocked that Tony didn’t take over the mob himself… But perhaps Tony didn’t want to or felt he wouldn’t be able to with the company. It was hard on Howard to keep both going without the family getting hurt. It’s something that my father and Howard disagreed about a lot.” Peter nodded.

“I didn’t realize.”

“No many do…” Bucky trailed off for a moment, eyes going distant a moment before coming back. “Steve didn’t want to take over the family for a long time. He only agreed to it after dad begged him on his death bed. After my old man died Steve had to figure out how to gain respect fast. The German mob or we call them Hydra, were starting to rise up in Brooklyn. Schmidt was their leader and it was Steve who took him down. Though there have been rumors about him resurfacing over there before we were forced out.” Peter stared at Bucky then.

He noticed the strain that seemed to come off of the right-hand man. “Why is Steve out here now?” Peter wanted to slap his hand over his mouth, he hadn’t meant to ask that but Bucky seemed amused enough.

“Punk probably had an attack… He doesn’t disturb anyone after them but he likely will be pretty quiet in the mornin’.” Bucky sighed. “Leave him alone for the most part. Nat will likely sit with him for a while here in about a half hour, but I’ll drag him off to bed in the afternoon. Don’t worry too much about him, we’ve seen this happen to him before.” Peter scowled but didn’t comment more. It was more than likely that Steve was remembering the war or some of the mob business.

“How often does he get like this?”

“Only about once a month. It was worse after his tour, but I was starting to learn to handle my own attacks once he started to experience his. He hasn’t had it easy, but he’s got our support.” Peter nodded. At least Steve had that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop a kudos if you enjoyed and feel free to comment. :) I love to get feedback!


	6. Those D&$^ Russians

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony gets to see his friends! Some of them aren't that happy to see him though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry!! I know this is waaaaaaayyyyy over due and waaaaaayyyyyy too short...   
> I started up practice and school these past few weeks. Chapters will come out when I have time to write them. 
> 
>  
> 
> Please be patient with me!   
> I'll try to make it worth your while!

The tar pad went on for miles and Tony wondered what it had to be like to run across the entire thing. The thought of running wasn’t comfortable but to fly across it at alarming speeds was rather exciting. The plane that was touching down in the tar drew him away from his distracting thoughts, and an easy smile coming over his face. Once they were stopped Tony approached the stairway, throwing open his arms at the sight of Bruce emerging from the belly of the plane. “Brucey!” He could see the look of amusement and fondness come over Bruce’s face as he clambered down. They met into a tight hug by the time that Bruce reached him.

“Tony. Always good to see you in good spirits.” Bruce’s gentle voice was almost like music to the CEO’s ears. The other had been away from the states for over three months and it was too long for Tony to be away from his science brother. Behind Bruce followed Obadiah, sunglasses spread over his face and an easy grin over his lips. Tony directed Bruce away from his right-hand man towards his Audi. Bruce didn’t seem to question Tony’s sudden hurriedness towards the car, though he did raise a brow when Tony ignored Obie’s voice and shut the door behind them. “Fight with Obie again?”

Tony shrugged, keeping his mouth shut until they were driving back towards the tower. Obadiah didn’t have codes to get into the tower quite yet. Tony didn’t think that it was even on his to do list in his workshop. “Trying to get me to do a live demo in Afghanistan for some of the brass up there. Board is trying too, but I’ve told both to shove it.” Bruce rolled his eyes at Tony’s antics but didn’t comment further.

“What’s happened since I’ve been away? Rhodey didn’t have long to chat by the time I was available before the flight. Though he was mentioning that you might be trigger happy?” Bruce knew too well about Tony’s past, what he’d done for his position, how he got his name.

Tony simply grinned. “Might have run into a new mob in town. They don’t exactly understand territories but worry not, I haven’t shot a single er…” Tony grimaced, “Well I shot the ceiling, so I haven’t shot anyone.” There was a soft sigh from Bruce but it had the telltale signs of relief.

“At least you remember how to keep your barrel clean for once.” Was all that Bruce muttered as they were pulling into the private parking garage at the tower. Tony tried not to take offense to Bruce’s tone about his… other job.

Taking the lead Tony ushered Bruce into the tower before Obie could arrive behind them and ruin Tony’s good mood further. “You seem to have your act well thought out to avoid Obie,” Bruce noted, making Tony stutter step next to him, raising a brow. “Not that I want to complain. It’s rather awkward being on a plane with a guy for as long as I was.”

Tony could agree that whole heartedly, Obie gave off weird vibes when you were alone with him for too long. _Why had Rhodey stopped him from killing him again?_ Tony shook his head, bringing his hands away from where hidden guns were on his person. He wasn’t going to shoot anyone while Bruce was there. Nope.

In the elevator, Bruce chatted aimlessly about projects that he wanted to get finished now that he was back. Tony expressed animatedly about the new equipment that he’d put into Bruce’s lab while he was gone. Bruce’s eyes seemed to light up with the prospect of getting better data. “Most of it is top of the line, Stark Industries. I would only want the best for you.” Bruce lightly punched Tony’s arm as they grinned at one another. 

_“Tony… You didn’t have to shoot.”_

He blinked but didn’t falter. Instead Tony let Bruce off on his floor before heading up to the penthouse. Bruce was likely tired and didn’t want to stay up for much longer. They could catch up later, but for now Tony wanted some Scotch.

That wasn’t available apparently.

“Who are you?” Tony recognized easily the ‘intruder’ that was sitting at his private bar, nursing a shot glass with the bottle of vodka off to the side. The man, if Tony was going by the large gut and hairy arms, was laughing lightly before he turned in his seat to face the CEO.

“Hello,” he muttered, though rose to his feet nonetheless. His hand extended out towards Tony but he wasn’t sure what black substance was on the man’s hands, so Tony avoided the pleasantries and just smirked. He drew his hand back, unperturbed. “My name is Ivan Vanko. I… My father was a former partner to Howard.” Tony tucked the name away for later research.

“Anthony Stark, though I prefer Tony. Or Mr. Stark will do. What can I do for you?” Vanko… Tony heard that last name before from his father. They were Russian. Tony walked over to where he kept his hollow projections and checked over his company files, nothing. _Mob business then._

Vanko seemed to mirror Tony, though keeping at a distance. “There were some blueprints of a spec that my father started and gave to your father to look over. I’m afraid to say that your father died before he was able to give them back.” Tony scowled. He didn’t remember any specs in any of the mob folders. Private folder then?

“I’ll have my secretaries look into it then? If we can exchange information I’ll notify you when I locate them.” Vanko chuckled and shook his head.

“I’m afraid that this has surpassed being patient for my blueprints.” Tony felt the spike of nervous energy that overcame him in that instance. The hairs on the back of his neck were rising, and Tony had half a mind to take off then and there. “Now, Mr. Stark, I would like my blueprints before the Merchant intervenes and I’ll have to handle his… supplier.”

His hands shook only a little as he stepped away from Vanko. From his coat, Vanko pulled out a gun with a silencer on the end of the barrel. He cursed his luck this week and put down the projections. “I don’t keep those files here,” Tony whispered, looking from the gun to Vanko and back. If Tony knew how fast that Vanko shot he might rick grabbing for his own handgun, but didn’t he just say to himself in the elevator that he wasn’t going to shoot anyone today?

“Then call someone who can…” The safety clicked. Tony flinched.

“Look. Just give me a little bit of time. No need to get all trigger happy.” Tony put up a sheepish grin, putting up hands though that seemed to anger Vanko more so he put them down. His fingers twitched, again. “J…” Tony called out to his AI who made his presence known by flicking on the television. JARVIS wasn’t going to risk Tony getting shot by speaking. Many mob bosses didn’t react well to JARVIS suddenly speaking. Tony liked to link the 2002 incident to how fast his draw was against a boss who had cornered Tony in his office downstairs. He still had a scar from where the guy had gotten a lucky hit. “Tell Pepper to look through the V files.” The television flickered off, so Tony took that as it meant.

Vanko wasn’t going to be happy. After a little bit, Tony allowed his eyes to harden, glaring lightly at the man before him, bringing himself back up to full height. Vanko didn’t seem perturbed and went back to the bar, downing another shot of vodka, still with the gun trained for Tony. “The Merchant, is he all that powerful?”

It wouldn’t be the first time that Tony was asked that question. When he went into the underground as Stark some of the gangs wondered if the Merchant was really true. After all… No one had ever really met the man. “He controls Manhattan. I don’t think you have much to worry about if you’ll just be patient.” Vanko didn’t look convinced, in fact, Tony thinks that he just sped up his patience meter just a smidge.

“My flight leaves, in two hours. I tend to check in an hour early… You better hope your – Pepper- is fast at what she does.” _She’s more efficient than you think._ Tony smirked.

“Then I suppose I don’t have to worry at all.”

“Mr. Stark I-” Both Tony and Vanko turned towards the door. In the doorway stood… Barnes? Tony couldn’t believe it. What was this man doing here? In his penthouse? What was JARVIS thinking?! _He doesn’t think._ Tony knew that.

Vanko glanced back to Tony then back to Barnes. Bucky had a gun in hand ready, pointing it towards Vanko. It was impressive to Tony that the man could still look threatening with only one arm. _Maybe I could help out with that…_ Shut up. Tony glanced back at Vanko who hadn’t moved his gun from Tony’ direction. Just fantastic.

While Vanko was looking away though Tony pulled out a gun from his jacket and pointed it at the Russian himself. The sudden movement drew Vanko’s eyes back to him, but Tony didn’t hesitate. He pulled the trigger, sending the bullet into the man’s wrist. Tony nearly smiled at the sound of a cracking bone from this range. The man didn’t cry out in pain, but he did grunt. _D &#* Russians! _When Tony brought his eyes up to Barnes he noticed the almost shocked look in his eyes.

 

 

 

 

It was without thought… Barnes couldn’t believe what he had just seen from the man before him. Stark had seemed harmless. He didn’t try to fight Steve when it came to an agreement. In fact… Barnes was here today to try and talk with him about the building that they were thinking of purchasing.

After the initial meeting that the family had that morning Steve had assigned Bucky to go to Stark Industries. Steve was convinced that since Bucky had only one arm that Tony wouldn’t be as nervous around him. That they might be able to get him to go over to their side. But they hadn’t thought about Tony being with the Merchant… Hadn’t considered why they would be close in the first place.

_He’s just as dangerous as the Merchant himself._

The man’s hand was bleeding profusely. The gun had fallen to the ground, and he seemed to be struggling to stop the blood flow. “KaжeToя, я BaC HeдooдeHH.” Bucky recognized the language. He knew it… Because Natasha taught him. _It seems that I underestimated you._

“Si, lo hai fatto.” _Yes, you did._ Bucky’s eyes snapped to Tony, who’s eyes seemed darker, more threatening. There were feet pounding against the floor outside, but Bucky wasn’t sure that they would be there in time. Tony’s finger was shaking on the trigger, though not from fear but anticipation. He seemed reluctant to hold back. Bucky wasn’t all that sure what to do in that moment, did he stop Tony or risk getting shot himself?

There was silence between them for a while, but then soft chuckles emitted from the Russian’s direction. “I should have guessed it sooner… How naïve the people of Manhattan are to allow their city to be controlled by Rasputin.” The man glanced up to Tony with a feral grin on his face. “Italian. Wealthy. Your father held the position of leader for years before you. Howard wouldn’t raise a coward.”

A small smirk raised on Tony’s face, but he didn’t lower his firearm. “You’re right. He didn’t,” He relaxed, almost, with his position of the gun but it was still pointed to the man now cradling his hand on the floor. “Howard beat that right out of me. Left something else there.” A small shiver ran down Bucky’s spine as Tony spoke. This wasn’t the man that Steve had just made a deal with. “Mr. Barnes. Your father didn’t lay a hand on you, did he?”

Bucky went still. His relationship with his father wasn’t strained, that was true. Bucky hadn’t had it as bad as Steve did, his father stuck around. Bucky’s dad wasn’t a man of many emotions, but he didn’t get angry with Bucky often. He taught Bucky a lot of what he knew. How to fish, hunt, fight, even taught him to cook should the need arise. “No, he sure didn’t.” He answered, gulping down some of the bile that was starting to rise in his throat.

“Probably wouldn’t have done much for you in the first place. Not how your dad was raised, so he didn’t reflect it… But my dad thought the best way to make me tough, to keep me in line was to smack me around until the obedience stuck. Unlucky for him. Car wreck. Died. But not me… He chewed me up, and quite possibly spat me out but I emerged from it an entirely new man.” Tony’s eyes shifted only slightly to catch Bucky’s eye. “I became someone who couldn’t be broken.” His eyes went back to the man. A grin breaking his face nearly in half. “Someone that doesn’t know mercy.”

Bucky’s brain was far too slow to catch up with what Tony was talking about before it was too late. “No, wait!” The trigger seemed to move in slow motion but Bucky couldn’t do anything anyway. So, he watched as the bullet penetrated the man’s temple and his body slump to the ground. Barnes felt so shaken and nearly toppled to the floor onto his knees. Tony moved around quickly, though not in a rush. The footsteps outside seemed to have disappeared for the most part. Bucky watched Tony wipe the gun, then put it away back into his jacket. As for the man’s body, Tony stepped over it and yawned. F&#*&%@ yawned! Bucky couldn’t stop trembling.

When Tony was right in front of Bucky he smiled, patting his shoulder before walking past. “Security won’t be here for another 5 minutes. Perhaps you’ll follow me or else risk being blamed for this.” Tony looked back at Bucky with an odd expression but a fond one. “I’m sure that you have a lot of questions.”

“Why aren’t you trying to kill me.” Bucky was proud of himself, his voice wasn’t shaking, but his hands were not fooling anyone. Tony’s head tilted to the side as if thinking about it. Asking himself, why indeed?

Eventually Tony shrugged. “I suppose that you haven’t done anything to piss me off, Mr. Barnes.” Then Tony wandered off, taking to leaving the door a jar. Bucky wasn’t sure when he moved, but he hadn’t let the brunette get out of sight.

 

 

 

Bucky wasn’t back yet. He hadn’t called in, sent a message, or informed Natasha that he’d be late back. “I’m sure he’s okay.” Natasha’s words from three hours prior were still racing through his brain. He was sure that he was going to pace a pit into the floor. Where was his right hand? The door to his office opened slowly, allowing for Peter to sneak in and close the door without disturbing the tense silence in the room.

“Steve?” Peter’s young voice cut through to the mob boss who stared straight at him. “Bucky just walked in… He looks-” Peter wasn’t able to finish his sentence as Steve stormed past, nearly knocking the young boy (man?) from where he stood in the doorway.

When Steve finally located Bucky, he held in a small amount of shock. He looked frazzled, almost a ghost. His skin was pale, his eyes blown wide and when he saw Steve he scrambled to his feet. “We need to get out of Manhattan. Tonight.” Steve held up his hands to hold back Bucky who was starting to push at Steve’s chest with both hands. “Steve, please, we can’t stay here. We are in way over our heads.”

Steve grabbed his best friend’s hands and held them out in front of him. “Buck, you need to stay calm. What happened with Stark? Did the Merchant show up?”

“Show up? SHOW UP?! He was there the whole time!” Bucky ripped his hands back and pulled them through his hair. “Steve… We have looked at this all wrong, all of it. Howard… Howard is not the man you thought. He created a monster to take over his operation.” Steve scowled.

“What are you going on about?”

“Steve… Stark is the Marchant. I’ve looked the Merchant of Death in the face and ran.”

Steve’s face paled.

They were screwed.      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try and give updates about the story on my Tumblr 
> 
> speticwolfwriter 
> 
> Comments and Kudos appreciated!


	7. Scramble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's got them scared. 
> 
> Or does he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who just power housed out a chapter so that way guys knew I wasn't dead? 
> 
> //points to self// Thank you all of my dedicated readers!   
> School is basically kicking my butt, and I will be shocked if I get another chapter out this month with all that I have to do. 
> 
> Updates will come when they can.

_“They’re scrambling.”_ Tony paused his blow torch to stare at the screen that had Loki’s face plastered on it. His eyes were directed in front of him, watching with amusement. After Tony had talked with Bucky the Mob Boss had sent Loki with him to take the Irish member back to the warehouse. Since then Tony hadn’t heard anything from Loki until now.

Setting his blow torch down Tony gave his full attention. “Deciding to skip Manhattan? But I thought we were getting along so well.” Tony had no doubt that Barnes had told Roger’s the moment that he’d gotten back. Wouldn’t that have been a conversation to be a fly on the wall. How freaked had Roger’s been? Tony would pay millions just a for a photo of his face. “Doesn’t matter I suppose, that should be a message to the other gangs of Manhattan. Don’t mess with the Merchant.” There was a smirk going across Tony’s face as he went back to his current project.

If the inventor was being honest, he didn’t know why he was building it. After the fight the previous afternoon, more like Tony’s fight with Barnes present, he couldn’t get the idea of a bionic arm out of his brain. So now he had an endoskeleton done and the outer shell of the arm was sitting in front of him. He didn’t have any set plans for it… Just started building. There was still noise coming from the speakers, Loki was chuckling every once in a while but other than that they were ‘working’ in content silence.

At least they were until Tony’s other phone started to go off. The CEO groaned, having JARVIS pull up the caller I.D and scowling. “Obie this better be important.” He growled, scooting away from the workbench to glare at the screen.

“ _You need to do the demo at the military site. The generals are not going to take our offer if you don’t do the demonstration._ ” Tony groaned at Obie’s statement. Why was this his life right now with his right-hand man?

“I am not going to Afghanistan! If I have to tell you again I’ll make sure that I’ll only let you talk to JARVIS.” Tony thought about having his AI end the phone call there, but he stuck around for a moment. It was enough apparently.

“ _Tony. I wouldn’t ask you this much if it wasn’t important. This is a big break for the company… Just consider it._ ” With that Obie ended the call and Tony felt as if he’d just been slapped in the face. What did Tony have to be worried for? The Irish Mob was ditching town, the Merchant would still be feared when he got back… He could actually go and do the demo without risking his reputation.

He sighed. “What do you think Loki?” Tony called out to the man. He, Loki, apparently had taken to watching him rather than the events of the Mob before him.

When he was acknowledged, he heard the sigh before he really saw it on screen. “With these idiots leaving town I don’t see the problem with it. Pepper can hold down the company for the most part with Obadiah, Bruce is safe at the tower, and I can still go around collecting debts as if you’re still here. It wouldn’t be the first time that you’re gone for a little while.” Loki’s eyes glanced up quickly before looking back at the screen. “They may know who you are, but that doesn’t mean that as a Mob we aren’t still dangerous to them. I’ll sick Wilson on them, along with Logan.” Tony snorted at the thought of the two of them working together again. Logan had threatened to cut off Tony’s balls should he put them together again, but he didn’t care. They got the message across.

Tony sighed one more time before bringing a hologram towards him and started typing out a message to Obie.

_To: Obadiah Stane_

_From: Tony Stark_

_I’ll go do the demo._

_You’re right. It’s important for the company that I do this._

_I’m sorry._

Tony paused for a second, deleted the last line and sent it to Obie. There was a small churn in his stomach when he got an email back a little bit later, but Tony ignored the feeling for the most part.

_Thanks, Tony. You won’t regret it._

 

 

Steve didn’t have a clue of where to go. Brooklyn was out of the question, and now Manhattan was too dangerous for them to stay either. Here he thought that everything was going to start looking up.

As he wandered the warehouse Steve waved to Clint, who was tying up some of their spare clothes into a bag. They didn’t have trucks around yet, but they were going to head out soon. Bucky was the most frantic out of the group in Steve’s honest opinion. He’d packed the fastest and had offered to go get the trucks long before Steve was even ready to ask for volunteers. It was slightly concerning to Steve to see his best friend in such a state.

“How long till Barnes is back?” Steve turned around to look at Sitwell. His back was ramrod straight, almost too military like.

Steve shook his head, “No clue, he’s supposed to text me when he reaches rendezvous point.” Sitwell seemed unsatisfied, but Steve didn’t care. He was too worried about the Merchant arriving with an army simply for the fact that they now knew his identity.

Sitwell left then, pack behind him. Next up was Peter. The teen was packing away his minimal supplies, and Steve made a mental note to go out with him to get some materials that really belonged to him. “How’s packing?”

Peter looked up when Steve spoke and shrugged. “This is the third time that I’ve taken it out and put it all away again. Guess I don’t want to leave anything.” Peter’s voice was strained, though Steve could tell that it was out of obvious fear. Steve felt awful for what he was putting this boy through. He hadn’t asked to be a part of their crazy life, especially since he’d just gotten out of his with his foster family.

“Take out front once you’re done. We’re heading out as soon as everyone is ready.” Peter gave him a silent nod but paused a second later. This caught Steve’s attention as he was turning to leave. “Peter?”

“Is the Merchant really… Tony Stark?”

There was an awkward silence. Steve knew why he was asking. Tony Stark had been put on trial for being the Merchant before, there was evidence that placed him with a solid alibi for everything that was thrown at him. The entirety of Manhattan. New York believed that Tony Stark was in no way related to the Merchant of Death. But here they were, proven wrong and having the rug pulled completely from underneath them.

“Yes, Peter…”

“D&%^ it.” With that, Peter grabbed his bag and trudged out of the room, a scowl on his face. Steve wasn’t sure what to do then for him, but he didn’t say anything else. Instead, he walked on, checking all the other rooms in the warehouse until finally reaching his own. His pack was on his bed, ready to go. Bucky had to have packed it for him before he left because he hadn’t packed anything yet.

“Bucky, you spoil me.” He murmured, grabbing the pack and walking out the door. But he reached behind his dresser and grabbed a photo that he’d stuck behind there. Then with a final glance, Steve closed the door and took off for the exit.

 

 

“You said you weren’t going to do the demo, Tony. You have three meetings on those days, and those were already the rescheduled ones. The board is not going to be ignored for this long, Tony. Tell Obie another day.” Tony ran his fingers over the cool metal that he was working with. It wasn’t smooth, not yet.

He ticked his tongue before turning back to the screen that held Pepper’s face. “Pepper, just tell them that it’s important company business. They’ll understand that, right?”

It was almost fascinating how quickly that Tony saw the anger shift in her face. “I told them that last time and your face became plastered all over the tabloids. No, Tony, they are not going to care if it’s for the company.” He winced at the tone that she’d taken. _Not a child here Pep._

Scratching the back of his head Tony sighed. “Fine, how about I head over to the base tomorrow? That should give me enough time to get back for the meetings.” Tony looked away from the screens then, a message had popped up on a separate holoscreen.

_LL: Problem. Major Problem._

Loki… What could possibly be the issue with the Irish Mob now? “Are you even listening, Tony?” He swung his head back around.

“Huh?”

“Of course not. Tony, I said that if you took off tonight, made it to the base you would be back in time for the second meeting. I’ll schedule the next one for later that day, but do not be late.” He nodded, hoping that JARVIS was updating this onto his schedule without his say. Tony was too occupied with Loki’s message.

When Pepper starting going about the meeting prep he went back to the other screen.

_TS: What’s the problem?_

_LL: Thor is the problem. Again. The idiot._

_TS: He’s leaving with them isn’t he?_

_LL: Not if he sees me again. Send someone else to babysit them._

_TS: … Fine._

Tony messaged Happy before relaying that Loki would be relieved of his position soon. It was times like this that Tony realized that he wasn’t anything like his father was when he was in charge. Howard Stark…

A can of worms that Tony didn’t like to touch with a ten-foot pole. It was repressed memories that didn’t show up unless he was majorly pissed off, or in the mood to shoot something. What did that say about him in this moment?

Tony sighed. “I should just go to bed.” When he didn’t get a reply he noticed that Pepper had hung up on him. _Flowers. Buy her flowers. Women like those right?_ “JARVIS please order some flowers for Pepper and have them sent to her office.”

“ _Of course, Sir.”_ With that handled Tony left his workshop. Everything would be fine… He could leave and everything would be fine. His fingers twitched just slightly as he was walking up the stairs. Maybe stopping for the night was a bad idea, but he couldn’t go to a military base without looking his best.

When he reached his room, his phone started to buzz in his pocket. Throwing his shirt onto his bed Tony grabbed it. “Hello?” _Why didn’t you check the caller I.D?_ He waved his hand to the thought.

_“Tony?”_ Bruce.

“What’s going on Jolly Green?” Tony sat down on his bed, removing his shoes and stretching them out, making satisfying pops with his ankles.

_“Pepper just told me that you are going to Afghanistan. Have a game plan for us while you’re gone?”_ Tony itched the bottom of his feet and shrugged.

“Not really. Just keep at it like it’s normal. Don’t let anyone know that I’m out of town.” Tony’s voice grew serious as he spoke with his longtime friend. It was crucial to him that no one knew that he was gone. If he wanted the Irish to skip town they couldn’t realize that the Merchant left.

There was a long pause for a little while before confirmation. _“Sure thing Tony.”_

 

 

 

“So, you just found him out there?” Steve raised a brow to Thor who sat in front of a tied up mobster… Loki, once more. The Irish mob leader didn’t see Tony as the type to confirm the actions of other mob groups, but this would make more sense as to how he knew where they were moving. Steve glanced to Bucky who was stalk still, watching Loki as if he were a seeable disease. The leader turned back again to Loki.

Thor tucked back some of Loki’s hair back behind his ear. When Thor had brought in his brother he’d already been unconscious. Steve had been worried after the move that Thor was lost and they’d have to risk finding him, but the large man had found them. With his added-on package. “Ai, he was following us in the shadows just when we left. I thought it best that we face our foe head-on rather than run like dogs.” Thor brought his hand away and scowled. “I do not know how my brother came to this place, or how he became so close with the Merchant, but that is a better-suited question for when he wakes.” With that said Thor hefted Loki in the chair onto his shoulder. “Excuse me, Captain.”

Steve let the man pass. There were times that Steve wondered if Thor simply didn’t take over because he just didn’t realize that he could. With a strained breath, Steve walked over to his best friend. Bucky’s eyes were still on the door that Thor had left through. “He isn’t awake, he can’t contact the Merchant.”

“You don’t know that. Tony Stark is a brilliant man, he’s made billions on weaponry and high-tech for the military and his own mob. I just don’t doubt his ability to create a tracking device to put on all of his members.” Bucky walked away, following Thor through the narrow doorway. Steve huffed and leaned back against the wall. He didn’t know what Tony had done to Bucky, what spooked him so badly, but Steve was hoping to find out soon.

While Steve stood there Natasha and Sam both walked in, carrying some of the kitchen supplies to make dinner. “We’re making your favorite Steve, want to join in?” Sam had reached the Captain first, but he shook his head.

“Not now, Sam. I… I need to go handle something.” Steve pushed off the wall and headed back towards his office. It wasn’t really an office, it doubled as his bedroom, but regardless it was where the photo was. Bucky, Buck’s dad, his mom and dad, and him… Steve. He pulled out the photo when he got there. Staring at all the faces that reflected off the image and felt a part of him break. It was him and Bucky left. Now Steve was risking their lives by staying in Manhattan. “What do I do ma?” He asked the photo, gripping it just a little harder.

There were tears in the corners of his eyes, but Steve ignored them for the sake of staring at his dead mother’s never-aging face. _Do what your heart is telling you. You’ll figure it out. You always do._ Steve wiped his eyes. “I won’t lose to him… I won’t.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and Comments appreciated! 
> 
> See you around in the next update! More fun to come with Tony and Steve!!!!


	8. A Seed of Free Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TONY DUMP! I'm telling you. A lot of months are going to go by in a flash and you'll be scrambling to catch up. 
> 
> Tony goes through some terrible crap and comes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this story isn't dead my teachers just want to torcher me with a butt ton of homework.   
> Hopefully, you'll get an update sooner rather than later.

_Did you eat the seeds of your own free will?_

 

Tony gasped, throwing his eyes open and grasping for something that wasn’t there. He couldn’t ground himself, there wasn’t anything around him. His heart rate skyrocketed at the thought that he might be falling, free floating in a place that was- His hands finally grasped his chest, feeling the solidity of his rib cage and flesh enough to bring him down.

When he could finally feel around him Tony felt a hard bed underneath him. The material was scratchy and worn. Letting his eyes focus Tony looked at the ceiling. Rock and dirt. Where in the world was he? Sitting up Tony felt a tug on his chest. Glancing down he noticed that his chest was wrapped in several bandages. With strong hands Tony grasped at the bandages, tearing them away to reveal a gaping hole in his chest! “The h*$#!” His chest tightened again. He followed the cords connected to the hole to a car battery. He went for the machine but paused once another voice came up through the shadows.

“I wouldn’t touch that. It’s the only thing keeping your heart from being ripped apart.” Tony glanced around to find the source and took note of the older gentlemen that emerged from the darkness. He looked nice, his demeanor. Tony thought he was a good judge of character, he trusted his judgment on this. He was bald, had thin glasses on his face, wore what Tony would presume was once a suit.

Tony’s eyes went back to his chest, where the wrappings are. _Were._ Tony ripped them away, trying to see his chest, trying to understand what it was that was strapped to his chest. His heart likely skipped.

_What the H &@*… _

Tony stared at the contraption that was lodged in his chest, connected to the car battery. “What is this? What have you done to me?” Tony growled, his Merchant voice showing through his demeanor.

“Saved your life. That is keeping the shrapnel that’s left in your chest from reaching your heart.” The CEO looked at his chest again and rubbed just at the edge, but stopped soon after. It was sensitive still.

“Where are we?”

“The Ten Rings. They blew up your caravan and brought you here. Though I can’t say that I know what purpose they have for you… They don’t talk with me much.” Yinsen grinned at Tony with a sad grin. Tony didn’t want to think of the reason as to why. Instead, he rose shakily to his feet, grabbing the battery so that he could wander.

It was heavy.    

He glanced around the small area, snorting at the mediocre decorum that he was now residing. “Still in Afghanistan?” Tony asked, glancing at Yinsen, who nodded in confirmation. Tony shook his head. _This won’t end well…_

BANG

Tony flashed around, shocked at the sudden noises coming from the door. Jumbles of noises and voices carried through the thick steel door, and Yinsen’s replies were just as jumbled in Tony’s ears. “What, what are they saying?”

Yinsen scrambled over by him and put his hands up behind his head. “Don’t look them in the eye and do as I do.” Then the door pushed open and a big burly man walked out. Tony went stalk still, then relaxed. His eyes hardening to the Merchant in an instant. _Terrorists._ The man grinned and started speaking. Saying Tony’s name, his legacy, what they wanted him to do. “They want you to build that.” Yinsen handed the photo to Tony, the Jericho burning its image into Tony’s mind.

He’d been showing this missile off just yesterday… Was it yesterday? Tony looked up at the faces around him, and the pure rage that went through him made Tony want to rip all of their heads off. He didn’t cooperate with terrorists. “No.” The man’s face fell. Yinsen tensed at Tony’s reply, but no one moved.

 

 

 

The Merchant doesn’t break.

The Merchant is chaos.

Uncontrollable chaos.

_A drowned rat._

Tony coughed up more of the water as Yinsen patted his back to expel more of the water from his lungs. He really hated terrorists. “You finally agreed?” Yinsen asked, finally sitting back and staring at Tony. The CEO nodded but didn’t stop scowling.

“Can’t escape if I’m dead.” He muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I need supplies.” He murmured and grabbed some paper from the nearby table and a pencil.

 

 

 

_“I’m sorry this is the fun-vee. The humdrum vee is back there.”_

_“You did good today.”_

_“Is it okay if we get a photo?”_

_“No gang signs, please… I’m kidding you can do the sign.”_

The device that was now in his chest… It was a miracle. Tony ditched the battery the moment it was operating. The Arc Reactor. Tony didn’t think that his mind could surprise him again but it was truly a masterpiece. “You are a very impressive man Mr. Stark.” Tony glanced back at the other man, who was slowly becoming a great friend to him and smiled.

“I’m about as shocked that it’s working as you are.” Tony looked back to their mediocre mirror and smirked at his own reflection. When he stared into his own eyes he noticed the desire. The rage that was burning in his pupils. _The Merchant of Death was waiting to play._ Tony grinned even more darkly before throwing the shirt over his chest and walking back over to the desk to get started on the machine that would help him escape from this Hellhole.

 

 

 

 

It was hot. Really, hot. Tony didn’t think that it would get this hot out in a dessert so quickly. He wanted water so badly. His feet stumbled through the sand and Tony wanted to collapse. But he couldn’t. He had to keep going.

Helicopter…

Tony looked up and waved to the American helicopter that flew over him. The smile that was plastered over his face was genuine. He threw a peace signal to them as they landed and fell to his knees. _Yinsen I made it._ He closed his eyes, tears threatening to spill for the loss of his friend. _You won’t die in vain._ When the first soldier reached him Tony nearly wept when he noticed that it was Rhodey who seemed almost close to tears himself. “Next time, you’re riding with me.” Then Tony was hugged, hugged harder than he’d ever been in his life.

“I’m sorry Rhodey,” Tony whispered, putting his head on Rhodey’s shoulder and holding in his uncooperative tears.

 

 

 

 

Manhattan was the same. _You shouldn’t lie to yourself Mr. Stark._ Tony blinked a second before choosing to ignore the voice of Yinsen in the back of his mind. The streets were busy as always. The people were chattering away or were on their phones. Tony hadn’t really looked at the people as they were until now. He blinked at the smallest details that he took in. There was a blonde that was laughing with a man who had his arm curled around her. There was an elderly couple who seemed content to feed the already fat pigeons of New York. Tony felt a fond smile coming over his face. _Your genuine smile is better on you, Mr. Stark._ Tony let the warm feeling wash over him.

“What’s up?” Pepper’s voice broke through Tony’s thoughts and he glanced at his PA. She seemed to be worried but relieved at the same time. Tony could only guess what was going through her head right now.

“Just glad to be home Ms. Potts.” He admitted, getting a smile from Pepper in kind.

“It’s good to have you back, Mr. Stark.”

There was a crowd at the press conference that wanted to welcome Tony back. He didn’t want to walk out there. “Tony?” Pepper was staring at him, concern etched on her face. She would understand if he said he didn’t want this, right? Tony opened his mouth to vocalize his thoughts, but the door was open before he could speak, and Obie was pulling him out of the car before Pepper could save him.

“Tony! I’m so glad that you’re okay.” He doubted that, but Tony accepted his hug nonetheless. A cursory glance around Tony nearly scowled at the lack of Loki and Bruce in the people around him. Where were they? Tony checked the shadows even. Nothing.

“Obie…”

“Let’s get inside. The world needs to see that Tony Stark is alive and well.” Tony wanted to retch himself from the man’s hold, but he couldn’t lose control here. He couldn’t. _Control the storm._ The Merchant was at the lapels of Tony’s mind, fingers twitching, trigger happy.

There was a lot of flashes when Tony first walked in. Those weren’t what stopped Tony in his tracks. In front of him, standing like he owned the ground underneath his feet, stood Steve Rogers. Military uniform and Bucky Barnes in tandem wearing his own uniform. Both were staring at him as if he were a piece of meat that was theirs for the taking. Tony stared them down, hackles rising as they seemed to almost grin at seeing him walk in. “Tony, press conference is over here.” Obie’s voice felt like it was coming in through water. Tony didn’t remember moving but he was at a podium the next thing that he knew.

His answers to any of the presses questions were quiet, slow and not all there. Tony jumped from word to word, as if his thoughts were scattered. _It’s okay to be a little broken after this Mr. Stark._ Tony could believe it. Thanks, Yinsen.

Obie was the one to cut off the press conference, pushing Tony lightly away from the podium and handling the rest of the questions while Tony was guided away by Rhodey and Pepper. “Tones, are you okay?” Rhodey asked him while he settled Tony in a chair that was in a back room. Before Tony could reply the door opened, revealing both of the Irish mob members.

Tony was quick across the room, slamming the door but he wasn’t quick enough to stop the two men from entering, aiming their guns at him. Tony froze. Rhodey had his gun drawn and so did Pepper. Tony wasn’t holding a gun. For once he wasn’t holding the gun. The Merchant within felt vulnerable, exposed. “What do you want?” Tony growled, eyes never leaving the two men who were trained on him.

“The Merchant,” Barnes spoke, Rogers turning to Rhodey and Pepper and aiming at them. Tony wanted to keep Rogers attention, keep him away from them. _You can’t save the world._ Tony knew that but he could at least protect his world, couldn’t he? “We need you to come with us. A few things need to be discussed.”

The cock of a barrel. When did he grab..? Tony’s eyes were almost wide when he looked at his own hand. A gun. He thought he would be trembling. Scared to be back into this sort of life. That wouldn’t ever be the case, would it? He was bred for this lifestyle. Molded. There wasn’t anything else that he was meant to do other than this. “I think you know how my terms usually go.” Tony didn’t know his own voice. It wasn’t smooth. It was rough. Did it sound this way during the press conference?

“You don’t have much of a choice.” This time it was Roger’s who spoke. Tony looked into the rest of the room and noticed that more members of the Irish mob were in the room now, two holding Pepper and Rhodey down, guns trained. Tony felt his heart nearly stop. The gun dropped.

_When people are desperate enough, they will try to reign in chaos._

 

 

 

 

Tony wanted to spit in his smug face. Barnes was grinning at Tony from ear to ear. His hands were out in front of him, not bound per Roger’s request, but he was told to keep them where Roger’s could see them. _Smart man._ Tony almost wanted to make a snarky comment about it. But that wasn’t what he wanted to do right now. He wanted to make sure Pepper was okay, be with his best friend as he woke up from his headache that Barnes had surely given him when he knocked Rhodey out.

They made several turns, and Tony was still 99% sure of where they were simply by the sounds alone. Nearly to the port. Warehouse district. _Drowned Rat._ Tony closed his eyes to the thought. His chest ached. “Out.” Tony opened his eyes to the order and noticed that they were finally stopped. The door was open next to him. He climbed out though not without a little shove from Barnes regardless.

When they were finally all out Tony was walked towards the warehouse. He glanced around him but didn’t really take in much at first glance. Inside Tony felt all eyes zero in on him. He grinned. _Why did he grin?_ “You bloody idiot.” Tony glanced up and to his surprise saw Loki, next to him Bruce. Both of them looked like they could be better, but Tony was too relieved to know that they were okay. “What took you so long to get here?”

Tony could feel the cold tone in the voice of the other. Loki was really pissed at him. _Does he know?_ “I’ve been away a few months, Laufeyson. Sorry that they wouldn’t let me send a postcard.” That seemed to capture most of the attention in the room, but Tony wasn’t apparently going to stick around for long. Roger’s grabbed his collar and practically dragged him into a different room. He threw him into a chair that sat across from a large table. It was very similar to those old mob movies. Tony nearly snickered.

“We have a few topics that we want to discuss with you, Merchant.” Roger’s voice spoke above him before he stalked around the table to sit across from him.

“Ask away.” Tony purred. _What is wrong with him?_

Roger’s didn’t seem amused.

 

_Did you eat the seed of your own free will?_

_I did._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudo's and comments appreciated!


	9. Truce?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is a sneak. Tony has a small heart to heart. 
> 
> Bucky admits some secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Not a months wait? 
> 
> Guys, I'm hoping to get to a more interesting storyboard of this fic soon. I know it's moving at super slow speeds, but give it time. We'll get to the good stuff soon. >:)

A lot had happened since the Merchant of Death, Tony Stark, had disappeared from Manhattan for three months. The city, for the most part, was running as smoothly as ever, but there was an edge of weariness to it without its leader. Though Steve and his family were the only ones who really saw that unrest in the darkness that resided in Manhattan. Some of the shady characters that would walk without much care in the world seemed to hunch over by the first month of their boss being missing.

It had taken Natasha a long time to figure out where it was that Stark was, and why he was missing. Loki, for the most part, wasn’t complying with them at all. By the second month, he’d stopped talking with them entirely until they pulled in Banner just at the start of the third month. Though Steve wasn’t entirely sure what Loki had been saying as it was all foreign and Norwegian. Thor wouldn’t tell him what his brother was saying either. “If I told you I’m not sure that you would be able to stop yourself from punching him, Captain.” Steve left it alone.

Bucky was restless without Stark to confront. The Irish had tried to see what they could do to gain some ground with the Italian’s even without their leader in town, but they didn’t have much luck. Logan or as it was said on the street, Wolverine, didn’t let much trade happen between them and anyone else in the city. Wilson, or Deadpool, took down any of the Irish members who tried to sell anything. Steve was starting to become antsy as well when they were being attacked without any idea of who was sending out the dogs in the first place. “Could be one of his higher-ups. Wolverine and Deadpool look more like lackeys but I bet Stark trusts them to keep doing their job even without his direct order.” Clint sometimes said the thoughts of everyone in the room, even if no one really wanted them to be voiced.

It wasn’t until a day before Stark was found that Steve finally realized that it was Stane who held the reigns in the Merchants place. Not as terrifying, but still a man of power. There was a rumor of the position being opened for the Merchant’s place before Tony was back in Manhattan. Steve wondered how pissed the man would get if he told him right now.

“You’ve been missing for a while, Merchant. Where’ve you been?” Steve stared down the man before him. His hair was a wreck, and his grin was more manic then smooth as it had been back in his office all those months ago.

His back straightened before he graced Steve with an answer. “Went off to war. Thought I might see what they were talking about with those brave men giving up their lives for ours.”

“Decided to be the man throwing the stick rather than selling it?”

Tony shook his head, “I think you forget that I am my own best client. Suppose I was curious what it was like off American soil.” Steve narrowed his eyes but did well to keep his fists from clenching. When Tony had been announced to have been found Steve had thought that it was his perfect opportunity. Tony would be vulnerable, disoriented, not have time to contact anyone. He would have the upper hand and convince Tony that he had more power in Manhattan than Tony realized and make a truce to keep from the bloodshed. But instead what Steve found was a broken man… A broken man that had only been looking for a reason to fall off the edge.

“Mr. Stark-”

“That was my father on and off the books. I prefer that if you are going to kidnap me as my other half I would prefer you refer to me as such.” Tony’s eyes were weary and tired. Steve stared at them for all but a minute before nodding.

“Merchant. I want to discuss a truce with you. We’ve taken some ground here in Manhattan and I would rather stop the bloodshed before there is any.” There was a thick silence. Steve was sure that Tony was only mulling it over in his head, but Tony didn’t seem phased. His grin didn’t waver and he seemed more humored than anything. Steve almost felt like he might start sweating at any moment due to the heat of the Merchant stare.

When Tony did finally speak, it was to laugh. “You-Hehe!- You want to make a truce over –HA- land that you don’t have?” Tony seemed positively tickled by what he was hearing. He wouldn’t stop laughing and Steve had half a mind to leave him there till he was finished. “You don’t have the grounds to stand on to make such an offer!” Suddenly Tony’s hand was smacking the table as if it were hard enough snap it in two. Steve almost wondered if when Tony’s hand moved away, that there would be a crack there, regardless of how impossible it would be.

“Just because I don’t have it right now doesn’t mean that I can’t make the proper moves to claim the land that I need to start making a profit here. We can either settle this, or I can just take you out of the equation entirely.” Steve placed his gun on the table, leaning over his chair to put more shadows on his face. Steve was told by Bucky that when he towered over someone that it would make anyone pee their pants. It only seemed to serve to piss Tony off. His eyes were slits for lack of a better term and Steve was having second thoughts about trying to go up against Tony while he was like this.

Steve rose to his feet, sighing. “I see nothing that I’m saying is getting through to you. Perhaps I’ll return and you can consider this more thoroughly.” He went for the door, but not before realizing his mistake. The gun cocked behind him.

“You aren’t that bright, are you?” Tony murmured, Steve turned slowly to stare at The Merchant of Death. Steve held up the clip over his shoulder. Tony glanced at the gun and put the gun down.

Steve put the clip into his pocket then. “I’m brighter than I look.”

 

 

 

 

Tony could recall some of the wiser words that his father shared with him before sending him off to boarding school. “Tony, you won’t get far if you don’t make friends carefully.” Tony believed him. It’s where his friendship with Justin Hammer came into play. Hammer was slowly rising in popularity amongst many of their peers. Tony knew that if he was going to be known, it would be first through a friendship with him.

So, he pulled it out, walked with Hammer and befriended him. It wasn’t hard. Tony didn’t claim it to be easy either. Justin wasn’t under the impression that Tony was anything like his father, and that when they were CEO’s together that they might be able to tackle a lot of the business world. Tony didn’t know bloodlust then, there was still hope between him and Hammer. But when Obie called him, told him that his dad wanted him to come back home and attend a university. Tony’s friendship with Hammer faded.

Tony didn’t keep up with his once close friend and slowly they were both corrupted to hate the other. Though Tony wouldn’t say that he held any anger towards the younger Hammer, just animosity. In short.

Tony thought Justin was an idiot.

Rightfully so. Anything that Justin created was subpar and not up to the standards that the military was spoiled with when the product came from SI. Tony could tell that Justin, though intelligent, wasn’t going to go far in the business world with his half-baked coding and easily hacked software. (Tony won’t admit it if asked directly if asked about the latter fact.)

But now, Tony was staring at a big, burly looking Blonde. Blue eyes that Tony swore were meant for a true American, and muscles so large that Tony was sure he wouldn’t win in a fist fight… He was downright perplexed. The clip, though Tony thought he’d checked for, had been missing from the gun when he held it up to the other man. Now Tony sat at the table and just stared at the door where the blonde had disappeared. “Steve Rogers,” Tony mumbled, letting his head fall backward and sighing. “I feel like I shouldn’t be this shocked by you. But then again,” His head lulled to the side to stare at a double-sided window that had Tony wondering where they’d gotten it from. “I was more expecting Barnes’ type of brain. I’ve never had the chance to know your own family.” There was a small screeching noise that Tony could hear, but he didn’t smirk. Just stared.

 _If only Pep were here… Or Rhodey._ Tony closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. They were likely awake by now, worried, calling all their allies to find out where the Irish Mob had taken him. What would Obie be doing? Tony had to ponder for a little bit. Nothing. Obie wouldn’t do s&$^… “You’re Tony Stark.” Tony’s head lulled forward to the kid that had just entered. Brown hair. Hazel eyes. Couldn’t be older than 16.

_When had Rogers left?_

“Yes. Though I go by another name when I handle these sorts of deals.” Tony’s grin came back to his face, eyes hardening just slightly at the timid nature that the teen presented to him. Tony observed the wringing of his hands and how he didn’t raise his eyes from the ground. It was almost comical to the Marchant how scared this kid was to talk with him. “Name?”

That seemed to startle him. His eyes widened. “Parker. Uh… Peter Parker. I grew up in Queens.” Tony turned his head. Aside from the Bronx Tony didn’t know much about the place. He chose not to do much business there, simply for the fact that he didn’t see much of the clientele enjoying his product, over or under the table.

“Queens?” Peter nodded. “Oscorp. Newman? Norman? Osboring is my usual name for him. So, grew up with that kind of shadow over the city. Must be nice getting away from that.” Peter walked further into the room then, closing the door behind him. Tony raised a brow but didn’t comment. “I’m not impressed at all by what he’s been doing over there. Biology experiments, test tube wannabe’s and not even offering to ask SI for anything to help.” Peter took a seat across from Tony. “I’m quite ashamed.” _You shouldn’t make lying a hobby, Mr. Stark._ Tony was starting to wonder if Yinsen’s voice was going to come back. Good to know he was still there to offer his words of wisdom.

“Mister Osborne is the reason that my best friend died.” Tony’s eyes found the kid’s then, his eyes hard. There was that starting gleam in the kid’s eye, the kind that Tony knew too well. “His son. Harry… We grew up together, practically brother’s. But then… Mr. Osborne did something to him, made him get really violent and he lashed out one day at the school. Sent him home, Harry wasn’t seen for another week. Then that turned into two then three. I tried to visit from time to time but no one would let me in, even though I frequented the place a lot.” Peter scratched the top of his head absentmindedly, too caught up in his tale, “When they announced Harry’s death in the paper I was shocked. I called Mr. Osborne but he just told me that Harry got really sick and just died. When I asked what sickness, it was, he wouldn’t tell me. Said it would just, ‘make me paranoid’. I don’t think I had much of a right not to be paranoid. So, I went to the business building, investigated myself. Harry told me that he’d been over at Oscorp the day before he acted out. I thought I would start there.” By this point, the wringing hands were starting to push up the sleeves of Peter’s jacket. He presented his left arm up towards Tony, who only glanced at it. “When I went in there, no one spoke to me. I walked past some security, but they seemed like they were in a daze. And when I got to the bio floor… It was like a bloodbath had occurred.” This grabbed Tony’s attention. For once The Merchant was silent. “I walked into, tried to see if anyone was alive that I could call to get help for, but before I could do that I wa-was bitten by this spider.” Peter pulled a small jar from his jacket and put it down on the table. A dead spider laid inside.

“No one was alive, Mr. Stark. They were all dead, and I was afraid I was going to be next but I didn’t die… I didn’t. Though I had tough luck with all of my family dying around me.” Peter’s voice seemed quieter. “I… I want justice for my friend, Harry, Mr. Stark. Steve is kind, and I’m grateful for what he’d provided for me thus far, but… He wouldn’t go to the lengths that you would. He doesn’t want to kill anyone unless they’re a threat to the family.”

“I think you’re confusing me with someone else. I don’t just go out and kill-”

“You shouldn’t lie Mr. Stark.” _Déjà vu._ Peter’s whisper was harsh and low toned. Tony stared at the kid before leaning forward on the table.

“What’s your game kid? Why come and tell me this story? I know that you haven’t told this to Roger’s, otherwise he wouldn’t be coming after me.” His eyes slanted, “What do you think that I can do, that Roger’s can’t?”

Silence.

Tony waited, but Peter wasn’t speaking. Another five minutes. The Merchant wasn’t sweating but he’d gotten over the awkwardness of the silence. “Fine. Don’t tell me.”

“When you agree to this truce with Steve, I just want to know that you’ll help me, Mr. Stark. Before I found the Irish mob I was going to come and talk to you. I was going to seek out the Merchant of Death… I know Manhattan really well Sir, and I was hoping that maybe I would find my place there, but-”

“Woah, Woah, I never said I was going to take the truce with Roger’s.”

“It’s obvious enough.”

“What?”

“You don’t actually hate Steve.” Tony opened his mouth to retort but nothing came out. It was a pregnant pause before Peter spoke again. “When you hate someone Mr. Stark. Your eyes are different. It’s obvious, even on television. You hate Mr. Osborne. You hate Reed Richards. You hate big flashy cameras and too intrusive news anchors. But when you talk to Steve or are around him you act differently.” Peter smile shyly, “You’re intrigued by him.”

 

 

 

   

Natasha was the one to drag the kid out eventually, but she thought he’d done what he needed to. Tony, the Merchant, was staring blankly at the door now. Steve was observing him from the double-sided window. Out of respect, everyone had given the kid privacy, but the moment the speakers turned on again Natasha grabbed Peter out of that room. She didn’t trust Stark. Tied up or untied. She had heard all of the stories about the man, what he was capable of.

Now, Steve was back inside. Natasha watched them speak… Mostly Steve talk. Tony seemed to be watching Steve with careful and calculating eyes. It was almost fascinating how much Stark seemed to take in with just observation alone.

“I hope that this truce can be to both our benefit’s Mr. Stark.” Tony nodded, standing and offering a hand to Steve. Natasha hadn’t been keen on releasing Tony’s hands, but Steve had insisted that he didn’t want to have a truce meeting if the man was being held down.

Their hands released one another. “Care to give me a lift back to my place, Rogers? I’m sure that my family would like to know that I’m safe.” Tony moved towards the door with Steve. “I would also appreciate it if you gave me back my two other members alive, with us being a part of a truce.”

Natasha lost the conversation after the door shut behind them. There was a pit in the bottom of her stomach but she ignored it. Instead, she left the observation room and walked out. She followed her captain before sliding into a different room when Steve went to look behind him. When she didn’t hear Steve call after her Natasha called it safe and determined that she might go after him again, but, “He knew you were following him you know.” Natasha looked over at Barnes, who was sharpening a knife on a block. He seemed more irritated than relaxed in her honest opinion.

“Steve isn’t you.”

“No, but he’s better. It’s why I don’t try to take over.” Natasha frowned at him but nodded nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudo's appreciated :)


	10. YOU DID WHAT?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yay Rhodey!   
> What's up, Nat?   
> Dang it Loki, stop being so dramatic....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....... I was writing this chapter then suddenly lost everything I was going to do in this story. I'm starting to make sure that I write down everything, but I'm sorry for how long it took me to get this chapter out. Hopefully the next one will not be as long of a wait.

“You made a truce with him?! With the IRISH MOB?!?! Are you nuts Tony?” Obie’s voice carried throughout the house, making Tony push back into his couch with a sigh. Rhodey and Pepper were also present, but that didn’t matter to Obie as he ripped Tony open with his words. “Tony, they’ll take over Manhattan. The Italian Mob and the Irish Mob don’t get along for a reason. We always are going after the territory of the other. It wasn’t until your father that they kept their pasty white a$$#$ in Brooklyn.” Tony took a sip of his scotch though it didn’t do much to make him feel better.

“Do you think I don’t know that Obie? Roger’s didn’t give me much of a choice. He held Bruce and Loki captive and he took my gun. I wasn’t in the best place to be fighting back demands. Besides, I still hold Manhattan. This is my city, he won’t walk out of line, not while I’m-”

“They’ve already started up a sale/trade on the docks. They’re going to be known by everyone by the end of the month. Everyone will know that the Irish Mob is doing business in Manhattan. Soon enough they’ll start to question if you’re really in charge or not, Tony.” If glass were easy to break Tony is sure it would be shattered in his hand. _Calm down, Mr. Stark._ His grip relaxed.

It wasn’t all that shocking to Tony that Roger’s started up business quick. Tony had made sure that Logan and Wilson both kept them from the trade. It was in hopes that they wouldn’t stay in town long. Maybe head over to Jersey, or the Bronx. Hell… Queens would have worked even. Tony didn’t understand the need to come over to Manhattan, where Tony was set up as Merchant of Death. “We’ll get it worked out Obie. Just go settle some paperwork. We can talk about this later.” Tony could hear the telltale sounds of vibrations coming from Obie’s suit pocket. There were people trying to get ahold of him. Probably for interviews or something for SI. Tony didn’t care in that moment, just wanted him out of the room. His house. His life in that instant.

Obie took off, but not without another curse and a promise to be back the next day to try and talk to Tony about it again. Tony hoped that he got hit by a bus before then. The CEO sighed when he heard the door close. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen him so upset with you, Tones.” Tony glanced at his best friend.

Rhodey walked across the room, taking away the glass from Tony’s hand when he sat down next to him. Pepper left the room, phone to her ear. “Obie means well,” Tony tried to justify, glancing to his scotch but not moving to grab it. Rhodey would slap him if he tried. “Honestly. He’ll be okay in a few days and he’ll give me a plan that he’s made and we’ll-”

“If you say handle it I’m going to throat punch you.” Tony shut his mouth quickly. He sat back slightly and glanced at his best friend. Rhodey’s fists were curled in his lap, and nearly shaking with unwanted fury. Tony looked back to Rhodey’s eyes and saw that he didn’t seem to be staring at anything.

“Honeybear?”

“Three months.” Tony blinked, Rhodey’s eyes focused on him so fast that Tony hardly had time to notice. “Give me three months and I’ll take over as second hand.” The CEO shook with the amount of force behind his friend’s words. Rhodey didn’t often speak in this tone, especially around Tony.

“O-okay… Are you sure?” Rhodey nodded and started for the exit.

“The Irish Mob isn’t something to sniff at. I don’t want to risk them hurting you. I have to go back to base tomorrow morning, but I’ll stop back by again before I head out.” Rhodey glanced back at Tony, his eyes like steel when he caught the CEO’s eyes. “Don’t do anything too brash while I’m gone. I promise that I’ll help you with this Tony.”  

 

 

 

 

“I used to think that when I grew up that I would be a ballerina. Twirling around on stage and smile at the crowd when I was finished. My mom used to say that I was graceful on my feet and that I would surprise both her and papa when I would enter a room… After I was taken to the Red Room… That dream seemed so distant that I didn’t think that I would ever think it was an option ever again. Yet here I am with a man who promised me the world if I would just follow him.” Steve glanced at Natasha. It seemed that the heart to heart that she tended to just outright talk about was happening tonight.

With a small smile gracing his face Steve walked over to the woman. She sat on a windowsill of the warehouse. Her body was small enough to fit there without much effort or strain. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, and she clasped her hands together. Steve leaned against the wall to face her. “With how silently you walk I can’t say that I’m really all that shocked.” She nodded, “What brought this on?”

She was silent for a while, not speaking until a solid five minutes passed. “When I went to Manhattan’s mall today, there was a little girl who was buying a pair of ballet shoes. It… It made me remember.” Steve nodded.

“I see. Well, I can look into adult ballet classes if you want, or you could find a studio if you want to practice on your own. You don’t have to avoid something that you like just because you work for me.” Steve swore he saw the hair of a smile, but there wasn’t much else that gave away from Natasha physically.

“Thank you, Steve, but… I don’t want to start up anything while we’re here. It would suck to have to come back here from Brooklyn just to dance… I’ll make do with what I have.” Soft footsteps echoed from the hallway. Steve glanced over to see Bucky making his way over. With a small wave, Steve looked back to Natasha.

She was silent now, looking out the window but tensing as she felt the presence of another approach. Bucky coughed slightly when he drew closer and smiled. “Thought I heard someone down this way, how’s it going Tasha?” She swiveled around to look at Bucky. Her eyes, usually so distant in these moments, seemed to startle into a front and surface level knowing when she stared at the one-armed man. Steve would never understand the odd behavior that the two seemed to have around one another.  

“About as well as it can. What about you?”

Bucky seemed to shift in that moment, arm moving to grasp something that wasn’t there. Steve knew that he was trying to cross his arms, but the phantom arm only played along for so long it seemed. Bucky almost looked terrified but masked it well. “Today’s been a little rough if you want my honesty.”

Natasha shrugged, glancing between Steve and Bucky both. “I’ll take honesty over lies any day.” Steve took that as a queue to walk away. The strange energy. The bizarre looks. Steve didn’t want to get in between it.

When Steve was well enough away Bucky sat on the sill with her, glancing out and taking note of what was going on through the other side. Peter was throwing rocks across the water, skipping them. Sam was with him too, though critiquing him mostly. It seemed like Peter was having fun, for once in his life while he’d first joined the family. “How long till he’s sent out? Till Steve thinks that he’s ready to join our business lives and handle a gun? How long till Peter gets into trouble and gets killed?” Bucky nodded. It was odd, the strange possessive behavior Natasha seemed to gain over the kid. But that was too be expected he supposed. She was the only female amongst them and she naturally would care… Maybe. Bucky didn’t like to stick labels on anyone that he thought deserving of his trust and loyalty.

“Is that why?”

“Peter is the same age that I was… When the red room decided to use me.” Bucky stiffened but didn’t speak. He knew the red room, had talked with Natasha about it several times. It was not usual for Natasha to talk about it so casually.

He looked back out to Peter, noticing now the muscle that he was slowly starting to build due to working out with him and Steve. They were practically training the kid to take over a job. Bucky felt as if a stone was settled in his stomach now thinking about what was now going through his brain. “Nat…” But his voice trails off. Natasha is starting to get up from the window sill. She looks unsure as if she was put off from speaking with him. The fact that they are alone together always seems to make her run away. “Don’t go.” His voice nearly cracks in how quiet his voice is. Natasha glances at him and smirks softly.

But she still walks away.

 

 

 

Tony wasn’t sure why he ever thought that talking the truce over with Loki was ever a good idea. It was more of a yelling match. Mostly Loki yelling and Tony not getting too many words in until the man finally let him speak. “Loki, I know that you’re worried about Thor, but I told Roger’s going after you would mean the truce is off. Thor won’t touch you.” Tony looked Loki in the eye, “I look out for my own, you know that.”

Loki scoffed and walked around the workstation to get closer to Tony. While Tony was covered in grease and oil stains, Loki was clean and well-trimmed. The man didn’t have a hair out of place. “Stark, if we do any operation together, he will try something. I guarantee it.” Tony sighed, rubbing his eyes in hopes to quell a rising migraine.

They sat there, together, as they usually did after big changes such as this. Though Tony couldn’t remember this thick air that was around them, even when Tony had said that he’d discussed with the ‘guardians’ who had packed up and moved to the Bronx. That Peter Quill had given Tony a lot of business, even though Loki had been unsure about them too. Though Tony had put Logan on their tails for a bit to make sure they behaved.

“We should have run them out when we had the chance,” Loki muttered, relaxing back into his chair with a sigh. Tony agreed.

“Oh, this is where you ran off to.” Tony glanced up and watched Bruce enter into the Penthouse with a small smile. Bruce, for the most part, hadn’t reacted to the news of the truce other than he would like to discuss with Tony about it later. “Loki, you look awful. Do you need to go lay down?” The taller man groaned but didn’t shake off the obvious request for privacy. Banner smiled more warmly then and watched as Loki left the room before he took a seat across from Tony. “Well, if it makes you feel better the city can finally ease up after all the tension your missing presence caused. Logan was about to rip off Wilson’s head before I went missing. I haven’t checked in there, but I think Loki covered all the basses. You sent everyone into quite a scare.”

Tony could believe it. Pepper had tried to inform him as best she could. Some gangs had popped up again after months of being dormant. Some places were broken into, and some of his stashes had been accidentally found. But Tony knew where all these gangs were, knew the leaders. He would return that fear of god back into them. _It would do to have a bit of mercy when dealing with people, Mr. Stark._ “That’s what Pepper was telling me. Even Rhodey was keeping tabs here to make sure nothing too drastic happened. I’m shocked that you guys held up my image well enough that people thought I was still around for a while.”

Bruce shrugged. “We know you inside and out. I would have hoped you wouldn’t doubt us by this point.” Tony smirked and shook his head. “But either way… A truce? I wasn’t too sure about it when you first mentioned it Tones, but thinking about it makes sense. The Irish Mob isn’t all that bad, plus they are loyal. The Captain keeps a tight ship and doesn’t typically allow people in unless he knows that they can be trusted.” Bruce rubbed his hands nervously. “Have you set up a meeting with the Captain?”

Tony thought to the numbers that he and Roger’s had exchanged. Tony had given Roger’s one of his other numbers that went to a secure phone. “He and I will be setting that up momentarily,” Tony stated, standing up and relaxed his posture when he stared out at the New York skyline.      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and Kudo! It helps me more than you can imagine! :)


	11. Keep the lights low

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There some unexpected stuff happening with Tony, and he doesn't deal with head pain well. 
> 
> Steve is worried about his spider boy.

It was quiet that morning. Tony sipped on a cup of coffee waiting, just waiting for the illusion to drop, for it all to come crashing down and to have it be revealed as the cave once more. For Yinsen’s minimal cooking efforts to waft their small area. A joke. Some snark. Anything to indicate that what Tony was doing wasn’t actually real. “Tony?” He turned and saw Bruce walk in, his hair messed up from his sleep and he rubbed tiredly at his eyes. “It’s six in the morning, were you in your lab all night?” Tony glanced at the contents of his lab. Nothing was complete on any of the tables except for a couple of coffee mugs that still had the stains from the previous contents.

            “I wasn’t able to really sleep last night, I didn’t wake you?” Tony scowled at him, not quite sure what had brought the other down here at this time himself. Bruce pointed to the ceiling.

            “JARVIS sent me, said that he could get you to leave your lab and he wouldn’t turn off my lights until I at least tried.” He shrugged, exposing his hands from his pockets. “this is me trying I suppose.”

            Tony stared for a while at the man that he considered as close as family. “I’m alright Bruce.” The CEO gave a small grin to him, though Tony could tell that Bruce wasn’t convinced. Instead, the doctor walked in further and took a seat next to him on the workbench. They sat there together in silence for what felt like hours, but Bruce didn’t allow it to fester.

            “You can talk with me, Tony, you know that.” Tony did know that. His entire friendship with Bruce was centered around trust and talking with one another about anything. When Tony had first found out about Bruce Banner it had been at a convention with other scientists from around the globe. He could recall Bruce’s work on Gamma Radiation, and how thorough and amazing that it was to him. It was really what had sparked their quick friendship in the first place. Tony thought it wasn’t possible for him to connect with one person so well, but low and behold a lonely Bruce Banner made his way to his heart and his family here in Manhattan.

            Tony sighed, “I don’t think this is real.” Tony murmured, rubbing his fingers against his eyes. When his eyes opened again the lights seemed to attack his retina’s. Another sigh and Tony was rubbing at them again, this time hearing the faint sounds of someone yelling in the background. _“Mr. Stark, we need to get up.”_ Tony didn’t want to. _“Put your hands behind your head, do as I do.”_ Tony felt hands touching him, they were dragging him off again.

            More noise. He didn’t understand what they were saying. Where was Yinsen? _“Mr. Stark.”_ What are they saying? Tony needed to know what they wanted. _“Tony.”_  Yinsen didn’t call him by his name. “TO-Y!” His eyes flashed open. Tony was holding on to the hands of Bruce, who had his hands clenched into Tony’s shirt. He stared between them, looking back and forth between Bruce and their hands. “Tony…” The gentleness of the words caught Tony’s attention. Bruce seemed sad. “This is real Tony, you aren’t in Afghanistan.” Tony’s grip became harder. “I promise, Tony. You’re home.” They released one another, and Tony glanced around. The lab was the same, though their chairs were toppled over now. Bruce must have grabbed him to keep him from falling. Tony rubbed at his chest. It hurt, and it felt hard to breathe. “Loki’s supposed to be coming by later. There were some people doing small business on the docks, wanted your input about what to do about them.”

            Tony looked over at Bruce, rubbing his chest slowly, “What were they selling?”

            “Loki wouldn’t say, just that he wants to know your opinion.” Tony nodded, sighing softly as to not aggravate his chest further. The reactor in his chest limited his oxygen intake already enough, he didn’t need this to make it worse. “Will you be alright? Maybe go upstairs, sleep a little bit? I’ll even stay with you if you don’t want to be alone.” The offer was tempting and Tony almost jumped at the idea of going to bed with someone that he trusted entirely.  

            “I’ll be alright, Bruce.” He got to his feet then, wiping his hands on his pant legs before exiting the lab. Bruce wasn’t far behind him, though he got off on a different floor when they finally ascended up the elevator.

            When Tony finally made it to his own floor it was cold. Not that he was going to complain about it. The cave had been hot, muggy, and the worst part of it had been damp. Tony was fine with the air around him being cold. “Sir, Master Loki has just arrived. He has a guest with him.” Tony turned to the elevator again and sighed.

            “Send him to the penthouse, J. I’ll go to bed after.” The elevator dinged just moments later with the dark haired man wandering in with Clint Barton in tow. The archer, for the most part, only glanced around once before focusing in on Tony. The Merchant smirked at the man before walking up to them. “Loki, the big guy was telling me that you had something on your report to tell me,” Tony gave a side glance to Clint, “though you seem to have brought the topic with you.”

            Clint stepped forward then. “The docks has become a bit of a danger zone for our business, the Captain wanted me to talk with one of your higher-ups about protection. We would be willing to pay, of course, though-”

            “My higher-ups don’t make a decision like this, I do.” Clint took a small step back at the biting tone that Tony had taken on. It was what the CEO had first wanted but he was tired. He was ready to sleep and be woken by the nightmares. He wanted to rest for once. “But I suppose we can talk protection. Depending on if you can afford me.”

            Clint held out a piece of paper, but it was Loki who grabbed the paper. “That won’t be enough,” Loki snarled, setting the paper down on a nearby table. Tony picked it up then and grinned. “Do you take us for charity? We don’t just give protection to just anyone.”

            “I’ll let the Captain know,” Clint stated, going for the paper again but Tony pulled it away. Both men stared at the Merchant of Death. He seemed to be staring at the paper for a long time before offering the paperback.

            “Tell the Captain that I will protect your operation on the docks for that amount, but it will double if he wants protection anywhere else.” Both men stood stock still right then, staring at Tony as if he’d grown a second head. The man just stared back at them, waiting for Clint to take the paper. When no one moved for another few minutes Tony sighed. “Take the offer, Clint. I will take it back if I get any more annoyed.” With that Clint snatched the paper out of Tony’s hand. “Escort him out will you, Loki. I need to sleep.” With that Tony left the two in the living room and rubbed at an oncoming headache.       

           

 

 

           

            The of gunpowder and smoke was something that Tony had grown up around, it was like a cologne to him by this point and practically followed him everywhere. It was something that he used in the boardroom to throw at the board that he knew how to build and wield a weapon. It was how he got the higher brass to listen to him when he presented an idea. The Merchant used it to invoke fear among those who tried to go against him. Now the smell only made his migraine worse.

            Bruce had come through earlier with medicine before being practically thrown out of the penthouse by the barrage of pillows that Tony threw at him. Migraines put Tony off on a worse mood than anything else. Most of his men (and women) knew to leave him alone when he was like this. Bruce only breached the room simply because he knew what medicine Tony needed and that he’d run out just a few weeks before he went missing. His head throbbed badly.

            J.A.R.V.I.S., bless his circuit board heart, kept the room as dark as he could with the sun shining in through the window. He practically minimizes any sound within the room, turning off fans when they became too much, and turning them on for a small bit of time to keep up air flow. Tony knew for a fact that J was his greatest and best creation.

            For the majority of that day, Tony stayed in the penthouse, laid on the couch, tried to sleep but kept being woken up by nightmares. He almost called up Loki just for the sake of company, but he rethought that decision. Loki was quiet, this was true, but the man was still a little pissed off about the whole truce, so Tony didn’t feel like going against that wraith so soon. Instead, Tony curled up on his side, covered himself with a blanket, and tried to keep even his own breath silent for the sake of keeping his headache at bay.

            “Sir?” Tony wanted to cry, “I’m sorry Sir, but this couldn’t wait. Mr. Stane is insisting that you meet with him.” It wouldn’t be that hard for Tony to reach for the gun that he has taped to the bottom of the table. It was fully loaded, recently cleaned by Loki when he was bored, and it was one of his favorites.

            Slowly Tony got to his feet, shuffling quietly to where he kept his darkest shades, grumbled mutely to himself before walking to the stairs. Tony could only assume that Obie was just a few floors down. Jarvis told Tony when to stop and slowly opened the door to the floor. There was quiet piano music playing, but Tony felt like it was heavy metal with how jarring it was to his eardrums. “Obie, there better be a good reason as to why you’re here.”

            The piano stopped, and from the pizza that was sitting out on the table, Tony could only guess why the man was here at all. Obie seemed to narrow his eyes at Tony for a moment before sighing. “Sunglasses weren’t meant for use indoors, Tony.”

Tony shrugged. “I don’t see any reason why I can’t wear them in my own home.” Silence met Tony when he walked further into the room, but that was eventually forgotten as Obie spoke again.  

“The board of directors was hoping to see you at the meeting this morning.” Tony rolled his eyes, hiding a wince as he took a seat further away from Obie. “They were concerned about you and your _sudden_ disappearance after the press conference.”

            Tony sighed, rubbing his hand against his chest and feeling for the hard casing of the reactor underneath his palm. “What did you tell them?” His voice was rough and obviously weak from disuse. Tony almost forgot that he was practically screaming at Bruce to get off of his floor earlier that morning.

            “That you were still trying to come to grips with what happened, that you were taking some time to yourself to… collect yourself. To… Better represent the company. Though do show up for the next meeting, they are getting a little antsy with you and me collectively.” Obie’s eyes flashed to Tony, who was watching him very carefully. There were several ways that Tony could phrase his next answer. _Don’t be rash Mr. Stark._

            The CEO grinned slightly. “Thank you, Obie. I can always count on you.” The man smiled at that and looked away. Tony allowed his chest to release the odd tension that was there. With that Obie got to his feet, walking around the piano to sit down close to Tony. There were at least a good three or four feet between them, but Tony still felt like his hair was standing on end.

            “Tony, I want you to know, I only want what is best for you. What is best for this company.” He gave Tony a small smile, one that Tony would have associated with his father when he actually acknowledged Tony when there was a time that Tony thought his father loved him for being his son, not some _perfect_ creation. “After your father died, I… I thought that you wouldn’t be interested in this business. The family. You didn’t show interest when you were a kid and your father told me to do what I thought was best.” Tony could recall those days as a teen when the family didn’t seem like something that he wanted to get his hands into. He’d seen what it had done to the relationship between his father and mother, how Maria had hated the mob business. She wanted something more for Tony, she wanted him to have an education and to keep away from the grit and burning fire that was this life. _“You’ll only hurt yourself, Anthony, getting caught up in all that hatred and madness. Lord knows I should have gotten you away from it before all of this happened.”_ Maria. Innocent and loving Maria. Tony loved her dearly. He still had a piece of her jewelry in his nightstand that he pulled out once in a while to remanence.

            But Howard. The man molded Tony into this raging inferno that blazed and ate away everything in his path. Obie hadn’t been around whenever Howard told Tony about the family. He spoke about Barnes in a careful manner, how to go about choosing friends and those that would help the family the most. Howard took him to the gun range every once in a while to learn to handle the recoil of a gun. Tony would go there for hours with his father just to hear the stories that his father would share about the different operations that they would run while Tony changed cartages or cleaned the guns after they were finished. Howard wasn’t the best father in the world, but he had cared enough about Tony to want him to do better, to be better than Howard ever was. The family was everything to him, and making sure that Tony was ready for it when it was his turn.

            That was what Howard was always training Tony to do.

            “I don’t doubt that you meant the best for the family, Obie. I know that you care about the family. It’s why I keep you around.” With that Tony rose to his feet, rubbing at his temples. His thoughts were all muddled. He needed to lie down. “I’m going back up, Obie. Hit the lights on your way out.”

 

 

 

 

            “Steve?” the blonde in question turned around. Peter stood in the doorway of his office and it was rather obvious that he felt too awkward to walk in unannounced, unlike the rest of Steve’s crew. _Why can’t they have better manners like Peter?_ Someday he was going to make them pay for disturbing his quiet time that he had to himself when he was in his office.

            Steve set down one of his many documents. They were practically scattered across his table. Some of them were from operations that they still had in Brooklyn, but a few were of new ones that they were starting here in Manhattan. “Yes, Peter?” The boy entered, closing the door behind him quietly. “Is there something that I can help you with?”

            Peter stared at the ground for a good minute. Steve considered going back to his paperwork until the boy spoke, but he assumed that Peter would take that as a dismissal so he held back. “Steve, I… I would like to go and visit with the Merchant.” The Mob boss blinked.

            “What?” Peter’s face erupted with scarlet and he and moved his head to the side so that he wasn’t looking at Steve directly.

            “The Merchant, I would like to talk with him.” Steve quite possibly couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Peter had been terrified of the man when they had first encountered him. There were times when Steve had been woken up from a nightmare that he’d already find Peter wide awake and staring at the front door of the warehouse. As if the Merchant were about to walk through again.

            Steve stacked up some of his papers into a neater pile. It would have to wait. “Peter, are you sure that it’s a good idea?” The young boy nodded, curling his fingers together and into small fists. It was as if Peter were trying to curl his fingers around the hem of the shirt but thought better of it. “Well… I uh… Peter, I’ll talk it over with Bucky and maybe we will see what we can do.” That seemed to be all that Peter really need because without a second thought Peter nodded and took off back out the door.

            There was a curdling feeling in Steve’s stomach at the thought of Peter meeting up with such a dangerous man, but he didn’t plan to leave him alone with Tony. He would never put Peter in harm's way like that. But Steve only got to wonder what it was that the boy wanted to possibly talk with the Merchant of Death about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took toooooooooo freaking long to write up! I'm so sorry for those of you that have been waiting for this chapter. 
> 
> Please note that I'll be going back to earlier chapters and removing or adding to them. When I update the next chapter I'll list it at the beginning where all the changes happened that way you know where to look and keep caught up with the chaos that is coming to this story :) 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed! Please comment and Kudo!

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone has any suggestions or sees a mistake comment and I'll reply/fix when I'm able to. 
> 
> Thanks for reading. 
> 
> Updates will hopefully be every Saturday.
> 
> Get updates on the story on my [Tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/septicwolfwriter)


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